Harry Potter and the Return of the Arcane Legion
by Zaibatsu
Summary: Exiled after the War, Harry struggles to return to Britain to reclaim his father's legacy and find his love. Harry learns to control his true gift and rekindle an ancient order to combat powers trying to control him in the Ministry. M for Language, action, ?lemons. First fic so please review. Slight A/U. Epic political thriller. Powerful, smart Harry. Canon pairings to start.
1. Chapter 1 - Prologue

Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.

**A/N: I know that the characters within are perhaps a bit less archetypical than those in Rowling's work, I hope it's because I imagine them a bit more layered, with more complexity, like Harry isn't necessarily a bastion of unconditional love, or that characters can't have real feelings for more than just the fairy tale ending.**

**This story has a lot of background and character development early to make the story and universe flow better. I like stories that have reasonable surprises and developments and that requires plausible story lines and staying within character. I am often disappointed with fan fiction that subscribe to the cliché of "It happens because I need more drama, or need more reviews." Stick with the story, I think its a worthwhile tale. For those Gabrielle fans, she begins to make a real impact much later in the story so be patient!**

Prologue

It was over. The fighting was over, but the reckoning was far from over. The bodies strewn about in the ghastly scene was testament to how the price for victory would continually be paid. The venerable castle of Hogwarts was laid to ruin with the Gryffindor tower taking a large brunt of the structural damage. The rubble and dust from the tower covered the Great Hall and bodies alike. Blood lay in pools amidst the living and the iron tang stench permeated everything. A lone figure swirled through the dust and debris desperately searching for hope.

As Harry stumbled to each of the wounded, he felt his sorrow and despair mounting. How he wished the survivors to lash out, curse him for his ineptitude, his delays, to berate him to save him the trouble. They would not oblige him, only asking for his blessing, treating him as a savior or saint. How could they be this misguided? How could he be anybody's savior when all of this destruction was because of him? His guilt threatened to engulf him … all the families, children, praising him; blessing him. Unrelenting like the ocean, crashing, pounding against his reserves, guilt was savaging Harry.

_How many more could he have saved if he didn't go to Godric's Hollow, hadn't taken so long to surrender? How many parents would still have children, children not have to be homeless?_

He squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay and mustered a slight grimacing smile to the first year Hufflepuff who had stopped sobbing when he came near. He collapsed next to her, staring into her face seeking anything to help her deal with such a tragedy. Her soulless blank stare tore at his heart, He was the reason; he stole her innocence. Transfiguring a scrap of cloth into a small badger, it circled them both and crawled into her lap, nipping at her finger, her eyes widened, momentarily lost at the magic. He frantically wanted her to remember she was a 12 year old girl, and this was a terrible nightmare that would fade away once the sun rose in the East.

The Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived, all of the titles he had garnered, and this was the best he could do? Simple charms? Wandering, seeking forgiveness for the lives he ruined following his fight against Tom Riddle? That girl and those like her would be scarred for life, a whole generation caught in his fight.

He violently shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts, the emerald eyes were burning, his tears would not be held at bay for long. He couldn't weep in front of those who put so much faith in him. He owed them his strength, what little he had left.

_Sirius,Remus, Moody,Tonks, Fred, Teddy growing up an orphan ... _

Lighting globes floated in eerie silence amidst the wreckage of the Great Hall. The wizarding families huddled close for warmth and safety. The morbid silence was interrupted intermittently with moans of anguish, pain or devastated loss. Now amongst the families, Harry silently slipped between them, hoping to remain as anonymous as possible. He didn't belong here; he was a stranger here among whole families, an orphan _like Teddy_, he winced as his breath was wrenched from him. He had condemned another how many children to a fate that he and Tom shared? How many would be abused, neglected, cast aside like trash?

In a daze, he didn't even recognize anybody, he didn't want to, he just needed to get out of there. Turning slightly, he wasn't ready for the ambush from his bushy-haired friend.

He felt the wind crushed from him as Hermione drew him into a hug.

"Harry? Harry, are you ok?" She knew something was wrong, the guilt obviously, but for once she couldn't fathom why that would be foremost in his mind. Voldemort was gone and the three of them were safe. The prophecy was done, her best friend was alive! Harry gave a wan smile and said, "Look around Hermione, _nothing_ is ok". Hermione's smile dropped, but she felt tempered joy, here they were alive, and still together. This was how it was supposed to be, Light and love winning against evil and darkness. She hugged him harder, determined to force her will and emotion into him.

Hermione smiled up at her friend, Harry's selflessness, unending compassion and nobility were both his best and most torturous gifts. It made him amazingly appealing but also prone to brooding and depression, often for things beyond his control. She would be lying to say she didn't fancy him in some fashion, every girl at Hogwarts had. He had enough empathy it seemed for everyone that came to him, an endless well that made people gravitate to him.

She snapped out of her musings when abruptly he asked with a desperate fire in his eyes, "Hermione, do you love me?"

She smirked against his chest and hugged him harder, "of course I love you, like a ..."

"Brother, I know". Harry almost smiled at their inside joke. They were inseparable since the troll in their first year. They were so close, that if they had a knut every time someone though they were dating they would be rich. _I wish it was enough. _

_Did she? _Her glib, practiced response was easy off her lips, but she hadn't really thought about it since hunting Horcruxes. She had always felt so comforted by him, an easy sort of physical intimacy, always looping her arm in his, holding his hand. With Ron it was passionate, they argued, there was friction. Harry was absently stroking her hair and she audibly sighed against his chest. This was who they were, upsetting that or jeopardizing that would be reckless. Harry gave her that intimacy no questions asked, why look for more when she had so much?

Hermione felt him finally relax a little but then she felt him jerk upright and pull away from her. She scanned his now blank face and saw whatever light he had left die in his eyes. She traced his line of vision until she saw the object of his anguish. _SHIT_. Ginny and Dean crumpled together, his arms protectively around her. It was a casual comforting gesture, one that she and Harry had shared. The irony was not lost of her, but she knew that Ginny and Dean were definitely not her and Harry. Ginny didn't do that with Dean because they were best friends.

Harry face turned to an impassive mask as he pulled away, turned smartly on one foot and quickly left the Great Hall. He refused to give in to anger until he had passed those families whose forgiveness he craved. He spat his frustration and stormed towards the reason for most of his anger. The inequity of everything was crystallizing in his mind. _You spent your childhood, your whole life controlled by a cruel abusive family, managed to not hate everyone and everything, got to a safe haven here (supposedly), was manipulated AGAIN, fed to the wolves blindfolded, died, came back to save everyone and ..._ Harry sighed. The problem wasn't that his life wasn't fair; it was purposefully made to be unfair. While Voldemort killed his parents, this asshole was to blame from then on.

He wrenched open the white marble crypt and confronted Dumblemore's body. Its peaceful repose was even more infuriating to Harry, as if mocking him in its slumber. "You got off easily old man, you are dead, and here I am to live in this shit. Your golden boy has won, and is left with nothing, NOTHING! The boy who lived, isn't interested in living this hollow life, I am 17 and there is nothing left in my life but guilt and sorrow. My life is a lie, a myth, one that you fed". Harry's body was shaking in anger, and motes of light began leaking from his eyes. He refused to cry, after everything that he learned, this man did not deserve it.

Harry lashed out and kicked the crypt. "Your weapon worked, you forged it well", he spat." Voldemort is gone, so everything I lost is justified for you. As for this", he held out the Elder Wand, "Its time is ended just like mine, both prophecies fulfilled." Harry emphasized each word as if willing Dumbledore to dare challenge him. This man exiled an infant to abuse and neglect and now everyone believed it was ok because now those 15 odd years culminated in the death of one Tom Riddle. Nobody cared what happened to him that was obvious, since his second year he had been discredited, slandered, held up as a hero, more useful as a figurehead than anything else. Even his closest friends had to be convinced of his value as Harry Potter, instead of the boy who lived. Well everyone but one, but she was _unavailable_.

Life was unfair, and Harry sneered at that ludicrous statement, it was a gross understatement, but it was also unworthy of a Gryffindor. Harry cringed, it sounded petulant and whiny and Sirius would have mocked him as an untrue Marauder. He wrenched himself from his self-pity and refocused his emotion to the former Headmaster. He knew Dumbledore had hoped to reclaim his wand when Harry survived, he would have worried that the Elder Wand should be entombed as well. Harry growled, as if he would do him any favors.

"You think I am going to return anything to you? You had everything taken from me, all for the greater good. What about my good, my right to a life, my right to feel safe!" Harry was snarling, but truthfully he was frightened by the intensity of his rage for the former Headmaster, the anger should be abating but it was unrelenting and growing. The light leaking from his eyes had carried to his hands, flickering throughout the chamber as he trembled under the strain of controlling himself. The last image he remembered was Ginny with Dean and then Hermione. His guilt and anger overwhelmed him and he tore the Elder wand asunder. After the two halves exploded all Harry could see was overwhelming light and then darkness.


	2. Chapter 2 - Black as Night

Chapter 1 – Black as Night

Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.

**Summary: Harry discovers that his unconditional love and dying doesn't mean he automatically gets his happy ending. He takes his frustration and guilt at being controlled for his whole life out by destroying the Elder Wand in Dumbledore's tomb.**

Hermione knew something was very wrong with Harry. He was prone to brooding, as she knew from the nice camping excursion for Horcruxes, but this was different. He wasn't just internalizing his guilt, something had shaken him worse than Voldemort. If it was just guilt or anger, she would expect him to be morose and withdrawn, but he _ran_.

Harry was not a runner; he either took his abuse stoically, or he fought back. Against Draco, when he was the Heir, or during the Tri-Wizard tournament, he always fought back. She could not fathom a time when Harry wouldn't fight for what he believed in, he had never talked about his time before school explicitly, but something had changed her best friend now. He lost his will, whether for a moment or more she didn't dare consider. Desperation settling in, she bolted from the Great Hall, following him in a panic, but then lost him in the grounds.

Had she not been still so highstrung from the battle, she wouldn't have noticed the gaunt figure lurch from the Headmaster's crypt. She quickly secured her wand and followed. If someone had stolen from that grave or was looking to ambush Harry, they would be sorry. Logically she should find some help especially if they were Death Eaters, but if they had harmed Harry, she was prepared to do whatever she needed to.

Hermione followed the shuffling shadowy figure, when finally it stopped it sniffed the air. She heard a hollow voice call back, "You don't need your wand here, Hermione. What's done is done."

"Harry? What are you doing out here?" she replied. She heard the defeat and resignation in his voice, it was empty. The Harry she loved was missing, "What's done?"

"The elder wand, it's gone, both of us are now just legends", he said wistfully like he had made a rather insightful joke.

"Harry, turn around, please come back with me. Ron and everyone will be worried and looking for you soon." She was tired of talking to his back, and she needed to search his face to find the right words to make him feel understood. _He has to know that he is a hero, that the lives that he saved outnumber the dead._ If he saw how worried she was, he would relent and come back.

"I know they will be worried, Hermione, but look around you, people are still in shock, they need their own peace for one night at least. That includes me, and I need time, to think, maybe go to the library, and find out what happens now." At this last admission, he turned and smiled weakly back at her. She was angry and scared for him but couldn't help grin at that smirk, she was outsmarted for once. "Give me tonight and I will find you when I am ready."

"Do you promise?" She would not leave him until he promised. If he did, he would not break it to her.

"I promise."

She embraced him, trying to force her love and joy into his body through sheer force of will. It wasn't a bruising Mrs. Weasley hug, it was soft and gentle, like a caress. She felt a slight tingling in her stomach as she ran her hands over his arms. She could smell the blood and ash on his robes from the battle in the Great Hall, but also something that was distinctly Harry. She sighed and leaned into his embrace. His back stiffened at the contact, so she stopped and clasped her hands over his. Her concern was splashed all over her face; Harry had never rejected her affection before, even when he was annoyed with her.

His green eyes bored into hers, searching. His eyes quickly hardened with resolve and he cupped her face in his calloused hands. Tears sprung into her eyes and her breathing became shallow, this was the Harry she remembered. He was still in there somewhere. She exhaled a sigh of relief; to have lost him would almost be too steep a price for this war.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice was strained, like speaking was painful.

She pulled away from him slightly to look into his face, "Yes?" Her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in, her mind racing with all the possibilities.

She accepted his chaste kiss with a small sigh; she needed him to know how important he was. He needed her love and support. Without knowing, Hermione rose to her tiptoes to slightly deepen the kiss, sliding her arms around Harry's waist. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, she felt his body uncoil and begin to relax. She began to pull away to catch her breath, happy that Harry finally understood her feelings, when he grazed his teeth and nipped her lower lip pulling on it slightly. Her knees buckled slightly, and the unfamiliar tingle again snaked down her spine to her core. _Merlin_!

Her eyes fluttered open slowly meeting his already open eyes. She quailed slightly from the look in his eyes. Those green orbs were dark, laced heavily with desperation, seeking refuge from all the turmoil around him. His need to be loved and wanted was so raw and naked just looking at him made her face flush. It was the look of a man starving for validation other than the Chosen One, that his place in this world meant something unique to someone, anyone.

"Harry, I …" She didn't know what to say, she had never prepared for anything like this. He was examining her face, looking for any signs, staring deep into her chocolate brown eyes, asking, hoping for the right answer.

She dropped her gaze and speaking so quietly it was almost lost in the air,"I … I should get back to …". She felt the air turn cold and knew that the light in those beautiful green eyes had fled again.

"Good bye Hermione", the hurt in his voice was palpable, hurting her as deep as Bellatrix's knife. She hoped she made the right decision, but wasn't sure if _she_ would ever see the Harry Potter she loved again. She steeled herself and looked at him, bracing for whatever he would offer.

Those emerald green eyes were cold and distant, like he was already somewhere else. It was the same look he had worn before. "I understand Hermione, you and Ron have something special", Harry spoke with forced emotion. Even when he was in agony, Harry was trying to do the noble thing and give his encouragement, and it broke her heart.

As he strode past her towards the lake, Hermione let her tears cascade down her face. Harry had shut himself away from everyone, especially now her, but she just hoped that it was temporary. A sinking feeling in her heart knew she was hoping against hope; she had chosen Ron over him despite all the encouragement and love he had always shown her. The awful implications of that washed over her, of what she gave up in Harry.

"HARRY!" She screamed, her gaze raking over the lake, she had to make it right; she had to sort out her feelings, but he was gone. She tried to scramble to her feet, but the weight of her loss drove her to her knees. She held her face in her slick hands, from her deluge of tears she guessed, but when she glanced down they were covered in blood and ash.

"Harry?" she whispered into the blackness of night.

* * *

The black lake was placid amidst the chaos raging around the grounds. Harry knew that it was a facade, the lake looked like he felt, placid exterior, yet churning underneath. He wistfully smiled at the comparison. Down by the lake shore, Harry spotted the person who knew closest to how he felt.

"Hey Harry", mumbled the red haired boy. He sat stock still with his knees pressed into his chest, the tension in his body belied the peaceful pose.

"How did you know?"

"I lost my ear, mate, I didn't lose my hearing. Besides, you are the only one dumb enough to be walking out here."

"Not the _only_ one" Harry remarked, trying to inject some levity through the tension.

"Harry, you are terrible at this, a better joke would have been …", Harry heard George's thin smile, at least it had worked slightly even as George's response trailed off silently.

Harry took a seat on the ground next to George. They didn't look at each other, they didn't need to, each knew the same pain, but for completely different reasons. They sat in silence for a long time.

"Does it fade, the pain?"

"In time." A long time, Harry thought glumly.

George stared blankly at the water, when he heard Harry mutter, "We learn to move on ... I'm sorry George."

He looked over and saw George's face slick with tears. George began to retort, Harry reflexively held a hand up to stop the reassurance he knew always came. George didn't blame him for his twin's death, but it was ok, he would blame himself enough for the both of them. He just wished people would let him own that responsibility.

"Fred made a great sacrifice for you, me, all of us. He would want you to keep living, but selfishly I need you to live. I could not forgive myself for letting him ... and then you, too." Harry's voice trailed off. "Promise me you will try and promise me you will open your shop we could all use a reminder that life is to be lived with love and laughter."

"Also as the primary investor I may also need you to expand your inventory. I may need a few inventions for what needs to be done; for the amends I need to make." Harry would not meet his eyes, but he knew his voice held a resolve and anger that was unmistakable. He was looking for revenge and if anyone would agree it would be George.

For a long time, George sat musing, pondering and with a deep sigh he turned and said,"You're leaving aren't you? How long?"

"For as long as it takes." The hard edge had returned to his voice and George shuddered at how cold and sure Harry sounded.

"I thought you would be able to take a break, enjoy being a part of our family …"

"I love your family, and my friends, but it's not enough. People are dead because of me, those same people. They died for the myth of the great Harry Potter", he spat. "To honor them I have to become someone who can earn that going forward. I need to discover who I am without ..." he pointed to his forehead.

"I understand, but one thing. Promise me you will come back for Fred's funeral. We would be honored for you to come, I know Fred would want you to be there so we can all start to move, to move on", whispered George.

"I will, just owl me", Harry's voice trailed off as he stood and walked towards the lake and disappeared in a white hot flash.

* * *

He stepped into the foyer of Grimmauld Place. He would ordinarily hate everything about this house, but the dark, dour mood matched his. He let the cold seep into his bones, relishing in the deserved sadness. With a loud pop, Kreacher appeared before his master, "Master be needing something?" queried the elf. Harry waved dismissively at the elf, "No, thank you though. I just need some time to collect my things."

"Master Potter be leaving his Kreacher?" Huge tears were forming around the bulbous eyes of the old elf, "Did I upset Master?" He began sidling towards a rather large frying pan in the corner of the kitchen with a determined look on his face.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there" Harry soothed, "Master is not upset, or angry in the least bit with your service. Kreacher, I just need to get away from all of this for a while. I will sleep in tomorrow so no disturbances unless absolutely necessary. Meaning no guests, visitors, ministers, or Dark Lords" Harry ticked off all of them on his fingers as he went through the list.

Nodding in agreement, Kreacher sadly watched his broken master trudge up the stairs to the second floor. Frowning at the drips of blood on the hardwoods, Kreacher cast a quick cleaning spell and followed Harry up the stairs, watching as he turned into the bathroom. The old house elf had seen that look before and an old worry crept back into his heart. He absently fingered the locket around his neck and began to prepare Master's things for a long journey.

Harry stood in the bathroom staring into the mirror, hardly recognizing the image before him. The skeletal figure, weakened by a year on the run and the stress of the battle, stared back at him with a wry almost rictus smile. He looked like he felt, pulled too thinly for life itself, barely appearing human and crushed by the weight of everything. This was definitely not how he was supposed to feel, the Light had prevailed, he was a conquering hero, his burden should be easing.

He unconsciously raked his hands through his hand and froze immediately. His scar, his scar was gone. He shifted his hair back and forth looking for it, as if it had moved somewhere else. _I'll have to ask Dumbled …_ Harry sagged to the floor with a low groan as the losses pressed in all sides again.

Kreacher appeared in the doorway and gestured to his Master, "Master Potter be wanting me to dress his hands?" Harry noticed the black iron skillet had made a reappearance behind Kreacher's back.

"Kreacher? My hands?" Harry stared down and noticed the wreckage that his hands had become, blood was flowing freely from at least a dozen cuts and others were cauterized. "No, that will be fine Kreacher, thank you."

Harry hauled himself back up to the black marble pedestal sink and, lost in thought, began to clean his wounds. It was agony but it seemed a fitting tribute to those who had lost so much more. Almost like a bloodletting, it was a physical pain that gave truth to the guilt still swirling in his mind. The smell of blood and ash triggered a memory of Fred's last laugh, Bellatrix's cackle as Sirius fell. Harry took a hard look in the mirror, and unconsciously traced a blood smeared lightning bolt on his image's forehead, all those people died for that stupid symbol, and he couldn't have missed it more. It gave him purpose, a sad sick purpose, but it was direction.

Groaning, Harry plodded towards the bedroom. The adrenaline was finally beginning to wane and the heavy feeling of complete exhaustion washed over him; he barely made it to the bed before collapsing.

Downstairs, Kreacher was absently stroking the locket given to him by Master Potter. As another fevered scream echoed down the stairwell, the house-elf's face darkened with grave concern. Another of the Blacks was succumbing to madness, as if it were a rite of passage.

Since Master Regulus' death, Kreacher had spent long hours trying to understand his family. The relationship of raw magic, in the Black's case a considerable amount, should bind Kreacher and give great power to his own, but it was never the case. Also he was just entering his second age, but was told he looked frail and weak. Much like Master Potter, he seemed aged and pulled too much for his years. His new master, while not of pure blood was the most honorable sort, had given the locket freely to him, and was commonly bandied about Hogwarts as "a most unusual wizard".

Kreacher's musings stopped short as the nightmarish screams devolved into moans and pleas. Grimacing at the decision he had already come to in his mind, he knew he would not sit idly by and watch a third master surrender to his demons. Gathering the firewhiskey and spirits in the house, the house elf knew Master Potter would die a slow death like Sirius if it would dull the pain; he banished them to the Leaky Cauldron courtesy of his Master. If Master Harry asked for it tomorrow, Kreacher would face his wrath and his own, giving the heavy iron skillet in the kitchen a baleful glare.

It was this house, Grimmauld Place, evil home of the Blacks that caused this pain and suffering, and Kreacher's own frailty. Worse yet, the lonely elf was the caretaker of the home that caused his Masters so much suffering. He was blinded by house elf loyalty to a family that treated his very existence with contempt, but now his new Master required him differently, not as a servant, but as support. Fearing the madness was much like Master Regulus', Kreacher left to go to the one home Master always sought. Kreacher summoned Harry's things from around the school grounds, and on returning, placed his Peverell cloak in Harry's sleeping arms and stood watch as his Master finally calmed.

**Author Note:**

**I know the story is moving a bit slowly, but I felt it necessary to give the characters more depth. The characters will be more conflicted and damaged, they are teenagers after a war after all, especially Harry. Read and Review, it's the best feedback an author can have. **


	3. Chapter 3 - Into Exile

Chapter 2 – Into Exile

Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.

**Summary thus far: Harry's two different loves have both strayed from him, leaving him no immediate future. He has enlisted George's help in avenging the losses from the Battle of Hogwarts and has begun to tap into the real power that Voldemort knows not from the prophecy.**

Harry's eyelids barely had the strength to open as he heard his name. "Master Harry Potter, I was to be waking you if it was important." Harry's glasses were still plastered to his face so when he snapped awake, his wand was at the ready. He was ready to curse anything, which apparently, including the letter held to his face by Kreacher.

"Master not be wanting the letter?" His elf asked with what Harry swore was laughter. "It is a Ministry letter, maybe Master not be liking the Ministry?" Ok, now the elf was taking the mickey out of him.

"No, no, thank you Kreacher, you did well, this does seem important". It was the first letter that carried what seemed to be a seal of the new Ministry, a phoenix wrapping around the scales of justice. It certainly seemed like Kingsley had some style to spare. "You checked it for Portkeys correct?"

Kreacher's eyes lost their mirth and he disappeared in a crack. Harry heard the loud gonging of something heavy and iron, and rolled his eyes. Shaking his head, he called his faithful servant back, "Kreacher, we only cook with the skillet from now on, now, is the letter safe?"

Upon his elf's groggy nodding, Harry gingerly opened the letter and read the single sentence.

_The phone booth at 7, my lynx messaged you at Bill's and Phlegm's wedding, call out Liam Matheson._

Harry held a bittersweet smile remembering Ginny's nickname for Bill's wife. It seemed so long and innocent ago when fun was allowed and hope was abundant. He checked the time and asked Kreacher to fix breakfast while he washed up as well as he could.

He arrived shortly after 7 o'clock, the phone booth stood waiting. His nerves were on edge, the last few trips here were much like his trips to Gringotts, unpleasant at best, life-threatening at worst. At least he would be meeting with Kingsley so he could get an honest portrayal of the post war effort.

Harry clumsily stepped inside swearing under his breath. _Since when did the youngest Seeker in a generation fall into a phone booth? _It was obviously the lack of sleep, or the stress, but it was still frustrating. He felt disjointed, like he was separated from his body, so gratefully, he leaned against the booth and called out the name memorized from the letter, Liam Matheson. He waited to feel the jolt as the booth could hurdle in any direction. Frowning, as the seconds ticked by, he finally heard a slight pop and disappeared into darkness. When the doors opened Harry was standing before an old man in a darkened room with two chairs.

"_Be seated_", Liam spoke, but it was within Harry s mind. Harry reached down for his wand, but felt the man's gaze narrow. "_This is no dark magic; it's just to provide protections for us both. What we say here is held in the strictness of confidence. Do you know who I am? _Harry nodded, he had a guess. He hazarded a thought, "_An unspeakable. It would explain the cloak and dagger stuff._" Harry heard the resounding snort in his mind.

"_Very astute young Potter, ahead of our conversation, I world like to apologize for its brevity. I am not callous, nor indifferent to your situation, it is very similar to the circumstances that brought me before you today. We know of your Horcrux and your connection to the Dark Lord. It is this reason that you are here_. Harry began to fight down the feeling of panic that was blossoming in his mind, if they suspected the Horcrux then he might have stepped into a trap. He glanced around the room for potential cover and exits as his hand slid down to his wand.

Liam held up a hand in warning, making a calming gesture and pointing back to his head. Harry watched as Liam pulled his own wand out and with a quick flick a life-sized Harry Potter sprang into existence. Before Harry could even pull his wand, he felt Matheson in his mind, "_Calm down Harry, this is to show you an explanation, not to replace you, you must trust me and show more trust in your friend, the Minister. This is merely informative at this point."_

The simalcrum stood in the spotlight of the darkened room and then the Horcrux glowed green as Liam spoke. "_Albus spoke to you of what the Horcrux is and its influence, correct? Then you know Voldemort imbued certain gifts, parseltongue, etc to you through it_. _But the gift of the Horcrux perhaps is the most influential. Your life is intertwined with it_. _You have not known existence without it. The Horcrux worked to marshal your resolve against the Dark forces by being a constant reminder of your true loyalties._ As loathe as Harry was to agree he saw the simple truth of it and merely nodded his agreement. The Horcrux and scar was always an omnipresent reminder to side with the Light and fight with the Dark.

"_The Horcrux's influence is more insidious than you could imagine", _Liam continued. Harry felt the bile rise into his throat as he saw the green infiltrating throughout his whole body, in every fiber, muscle, and neuron. "_The poison and foulness of the Horcrux was so potent they your body couldn't just destroy it despite your parents' noble sacrifices, you incorporated it, adapted, and grew with it."_ Harry's horror continued to mount as the awful weight of Liam's thoughts began to mount.

"_As you can see the parasitic nature has stunted your growth. Physically you're more slight and shorter than you should be, as Molly has no doubt reminded you_." Liam and Harry both chuckled at his insight, and he was grateful to Liam for including some levity to combat his rising panic_. "The Dursely's treatment not-withstanding, you should be a few inches taller."_ The unspeakable waved his hand and the simalcrum grew to around 6 feet tall.

"_Emotionally you are also immature._ Liam quickly pressed on preventing Harry from being defensive_. We are not talking of responsibility, merely self- awareness. Without it you feel alone lost without purpose, also without the focus required by the Horcrux and Voldemort, your outbursts and emotional control are less than adequate." _

Anger rose in Harry and he reached for his wand. Matheson just stared at him coldly and smirked. _"As I said before, "We are not without compassion for your case." _

"_I am not emotionally immature, I have always reigned in my temper and can see things clearly now that Voldemort is gone."_

He felt Liam voice snort again in his head,"_The Elder wand would beg to differ. They actually brings us to your most difficult variable. Your magic coupled with this emotional instabilty._ _Imagine your zoo incident so long ago …_

_Merlin_, thought Harry, they did keep close watch on me, but then if they knew that …

"_Now it would destroy everything in a 15 foot radius. Your own magical essence was supplanted in some sense by Voldemort's blight. Now that his influence is gone..."_ Harry saw the model's green coloring of his whole person replaced with a cold blue light. "_The suffusion of raw magic is a near instant process, for the body's need to become whole again is primal and undeniable. Sadly control is a learned behavior, more so for you who never grew into all of your own magic when coming of age_. _It will seem unrestrained, volatile like say an unchained dragon unaware of its lost power with no direction. _Harry felt the smirk on Liam's face.

Merlin's knuts, this Matheson did know a lot about him.

"_Your standing as Harry Potter has actually served you well. Often when we have spontaneous, uncontrolled magical growth that person is obliviated or killed. It would be like a walking time bomb. That myth you hated so much has saved your life, for now. However, you must leave Britain."_

Harry immediately reached for his wand and then collapsed into the chair as Liam's voice grew dangerously cold inside his mind.

"_You misunderstand if you believe this is negotiable. The Boy Who Lived and Conquered inadvertently murdering people because of a simple misunderstanding would be all that was needed for this recovery to fail and to lose hope. Our order would kill you first. Britain and the ministry must recover, we will allow no slipups. We will coordinate your exile with several news outlets, in whatever manner you would like, to protect those you must, within reason. I wish you the best Harry Potter"._

With Matheson retreating from his mind and everything about Harry shutting down with this new sword of Damocles lording over him, he numbly walked back to the phone booth. He felt a small sheet of parchment appear and fold itself in his pocket. Liam reached his mind with a sorrowful tone for the last time as the phone booth disappeared. _"I truly am sorry, I know your sacrifice, and when you are ready, the path home will be clear. For now, Gringotts will provide you anything needed to transition courtesy of the Ministry."_

* * *

The phone booth unceremoniously dumped him out into the lobby of the Gringotts bank, much to his chagrin. That was not the right way to avoid attention considering the circumstances. Mercifully, the goblins were expecting him and quickly pulled him into an associate director's office.

"Exile, Mr. Potter?", the goblin was tapping his finger against his chin, deep in thought. "You are of age to receive your inheritances and titles, however, I would forgo the titles due to circumstances. To have a wand-wielder Lord of two Houses in public exile would be most … unfortunate." His teeth gleamed in the lighting of the office, and Harry knew he was taking pleasure in his situation. "However, before you go, there are a few matters that must be accounted for."

Harry groaned, he knew the damages to Gringotts had been severe and would likely lose a large sum of Galleons to make amends, but he was surprised to learn that there was a secondary inheritance granted to him by Albus Dumbledore.

Twenty minutes later, Harry Potter was signing the writs to take Lordship of both Black and Potter Houses, but paid the goblins a "processing" fee that allowed that knowledge to stay within the walls of the director's office. While the cost of repairing the bank was steep, Harry emerged tens of millions of Galleons wealthier. The joy at the windfall was brief replaced quickly by annoyance as he was handed the Dumbledore testament.

_Harry, if you are reading this then we have both died but my plan has worked and you are now again alive. I know that your life has been troubled and that some of that is my fault, but I hope that now you can appreciate what was needed to be done. I had to think of the Greate.._

Harry crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it in the trash can unable to keep the disgust from his face. "Director, did he leave me any effects?" The goblin pulled two items from the desk drawer and placed them on the table.

"This is an untraceable ring with a permanent glamour charm. You may use it to change your features, but nothing more. I imagine he believed this will help in your disappearing act. This is a muggle book, written by an American author", the goblin seemed unimpressed and Harry had to agree.

"Thank you director, I would conclude my business here after a few requests. A simple way to access my accounts, obviously without having to return here, a summary of all Potter and Black investments, and six official sealed letters to be sent for arrival in two hours." Harry sent to work on his friends' letters, wondering how he could explain the last few hours to them but telling them they had to stay away until he managed to stay in control. He bit the quill tip nervously and began to write.

**A/N: This idea has been a while coming so it may touch on a few elements of the common Harry in exile fics out there, but stick with me, there are enough realistic twists to distinguish the story from others. It will continue to be angsty for a few more chapters, then the real fun begins!**


	4. Chapter 4 - letters

Chapter 3 - Letters -

Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.

**Summary: Last chapter was a bit of an explanatory one describing Harry's banishment. He learned that Voldemort's essence had forged with his own after his parents death. Now with the Horcrux gone, Harry must relearn control of his magic. He penned 6 letters before leaving Britain for experimental treatment. **

Molly Weasley woke with a start at the brisk wind blowing across her face. The coming dawn was just cresting over the damaged battlements of the venerable castle and the horrors of the previous night overwhelmed her again. She desperately raked her eyes across her family, Arthur, George, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and _sigh_ Dean. The ache in her heart at the absent Fred was compounded by the guilt she now felt for her unofficial son. Harry wasn't among the family and she hadn't given a second thought about it until now.

Her rising panic turned to a roaring frenzy when she saw Kingsley approach with a despondent face. Molly met him halfway across the Great Hall, collapsing into his arms, "What's happened to Harry? Oh gods, I can't tell Ron and Hermione, don't make me tell …" Kingsley let her carry on for a few more moments before easing her out of his hug and looking hard at her.

"Harry is injured but managing; he left early to the Ministry to meet with the Unspeakables. Molly, take your family, go back home, some normalcy will do you and your children some good." The Minister's baritone voice seemed to calm her nerves and remind the matriarch that she needed to be their pillar for now. He handed them an emergency Portkey, a benefit of the Ministry, to use. As the family was cobbled together in silence, she looked over them and prayed they could get through this.

Settled around the table at the Burrow was a dose of normalcy, but was sobering in how abnormal it was. Gone was the lively banter, practical jokes, and boisterous laughing, instead a sense of foreboding and silence blanketed the home. Silent tears fell from George's face as Fred's place at the table and even on the clock stood empty. Food was almost an afterthought as even Ron's stomach felt the heavy mood. Almost. When on his second run at the bacon and eggs, his inhalations were interrupted by a loud crack above the table.

Kreacher, looking younger and more powerful than Hermione could remember, spoke in an oddly deep and formal voice, "A meeting of Master Potter's closest friends will begin at 11 o'clock at Grimmauld Place, Misters Weasley" nodding to Ron and George, "Mistresses Hermione and Weasley, please do not be late." Before the children could question him, he disappeared. Surprisingly, it was George who was first to rise from the table, and turning to his mother, "We need to be ready; we all need to be ready". Hermione and Ginny questioned each other with a glance at George's ominous words, but Hermione just wanted a chance to see Harry again. What she was actually going to say, she had no idea, but she had to see him.

* * *

They arrived five minutes early to Kreacher setting up tea service at the dining room table. He motioned them to take seats and with the faintest nod and wink to George, pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey that he procured that morning, but only after Master Harry had departed. With a slight frown at the unpleasant memory, Kreacher summoned 6 glasses to the table, and waited for the others. The Floo flared green and Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood tumbled out. Kreacher aided them to seats at the table, and at the stroke of 11, 6 letters appeared on the table addressed to the assembled guests.

"Kreacher? Where's Harry? I thought he would be here?" Hermione asked pitifully, the other DA members nodded as well. Kreacher wouldn't meet their eyes, but instead gestured to the official Gringotts letters in front of them. She tore into her letter hoping to find some answers there and was surprised by the flowing script, Harry's handwriting was usually atrocious,

_Hermione, _

_We have been through a lot together from the start of our first term at Hogwarts to the end of the Dark Lord and I could not have succeeded without your love and guidance. Of all of my friends, your love was the one that never wavered and always meant the most. I am glad that you have found Ron and I hope this gift can help you both start your futures with a little bit of happiness and security._

_Your friend,_

_Harry_

Hermione's tears streamed down her face as the succinct note told her everything. Her feelings for him were moot for the time being, his patented selflessness had already moved on to helping her and Ron. It stung that he shifted so quickly, but Hermione knew Harry's defense mechanism from what little he spoke of his past with those horrible relatives. It still hurt, a lot, and it was unfair to him, she had Ron. She noticed another slip of parchment and her eyes widened,

_Ms. Hermione Granger, you are bequeathed 4 million galleons for a suitable flat and unfettered access to all Potter and Black tomes within the respective vaults. Please claim your gifts at your earliest convenience. _

The note fell out of her shaking hand and she stared around the table at equally stunned faces. Only George was still reading his letter, as it seemed his was much longer. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the slight flash that indicated an oath or vow, and George inhaled sharply as he read on. She watched him take a deep breath and immolate the parchment, cautiously look around, catching her eyes. There was a steely look that belied her flustered but delighted one. _What was in that letter?_

Ron was the first to speak after some time, "I can't believe it, Harry's mental, he is. Neville what did he leave you?"

His lack of manners was quickly overwhelmed by the teenagers wanting to discuss exactly that, the spoils they each received.

"Direct Access to the floor in St. Mungo's via Floo, money for a greenhouse addition to the manor, and specialists from America in both Muggle and Magical medicine for .." Neville's choked back a sob as Luna rubbed his back.

"Harry gave me a substantial amount of money to help rebuild the house, and to become a naturalist after schooling. He asked me to name an animal after him, something small and unassuming", Luna said dreamily. Ginny snorted, "Knowing that animal, it will turn out to attract trouble and be the most important new animal ever found." Chuckles erupted around the table, with even Kreacher giving a knowing nod to the redhead. "What about you, Ron?"

Ron was practically jumping up and down in his chair, "Some dragon-hide robes for being an Auror, a new set of dress robes, and a partial ownership in the Chudley Cannons!" The table went silent amongst the gawking faces, as the calculations began in all their minds about how much that lavish gift was worth. Hermione's thoughts had eclipsed the million Galleon threshold, when the silence and pondering finally was broken as George had enough, "You're kidding, DRESS ROBES? You have to retire the frilled ones? Say it ain't so!"

Ron's face reddened like a tomato but predictably the tension eased out of the room, "Fine then, George, what about you?"

That George's smile dropped momentarily was noticed only by Hermione. She had been watching him since he made that promise and kept reading. "Yes, George, tell us, what world secrets has Harry imparted to you?" He refused the bait and stood, grandly waving his arms and announced, "My patron has found it in his heart to donate his Potter pensieve to me, for designing new products, as well as a generous donation of one thousand Galleons … a week for research and development."

Neville's eyes were wide, "His pensieve? Wow, those are rare, only the oldest families would even have one, much less one whose runes still worked."

Luna piped up, "One thousand Galleons a week means that pensieve should be getting a lot of work, and means you, Hermione, are going to be up to your neck in discipline next year with all those new products. I would hate to see how you and the Head Boy are going to try and contain that."

Hermione's eyes got wide as she stared holes into George's face, "You wouldn't?" She whispered in mock horror. George just shrugged, bowing slightly, and she had the glimpse of a small twinkle in his eye. She smiled slightly, all the rule breaking, pranking, and mayhem would be worth it, to have a little bit of George and Fred back. Playing along she said conspiratorially, "You know, there is still the ban on all your products at school, so please just rename the new line something else and I won't have to take them on sight."

Ron snorted out his tea, "My girlfriend, the lawyer. I don't even know why you have to go back, you would be brilliant at the Ministry right now." Ignoring the blushing explosion on Hermione's face, he asked the others, "What, you don't think she would be brilliant?"

"Ronniekins has a girlfriend? Does Mom know about this? More importantly does Hermione know this?" Ginny could barely talk with how hard she was laughing. Neville and Luna looked at each and laughed even harder when Ron's face lost all color, "Merlin did I say that out loud?" George fell out of his chair and doubled over laughing.

Hermione mercifully put an end to it, when she spoke up, "Harry didn't think it so unexpected, he gave me access to all the Potter and Black libraries," everyone smirked at this, Harry knew his best friend too well, "and he gave me money for a flat, for me … and eventually Ron", she finished hesitantly, blushing all the way down her body. She turned to Ginny, praying that she would save her more embarrassment but she was shocked at the resentment and jealousy that was there.

"How about you Ginny?" Neville interjected quickly, and Hermione promised she would buy Neville a round of drinks the next time they all went to the Leaky.

"This." She flung down a snitch on to the table, "all I got was this." Hermione picked it up gingerly and eyes widened in surprise, "Ginny you don't understand", handing it back to her,"This is …"

Ginny snatched it from her hand, "A snitch", she snarled as she threw it against the kitchen wall. She wheeled on Hermione, "You got a home and everything you could have wanted from Harry; what did I get?"

"Dean", Hermione said coldly, "You got Dean". Her face was a mask of blushing fury; she retrieved the snitch and in the shocked silence of the kitchen, placed it reverently on the table. "This snitch was one of the first happy memories Harry ever had at Hogwarts, the first thing that made him feel like he belonged as himself, Harry, not the boy who lived. He carried it with us all last year, while he was checking his map for YOU." If looks could kill, Ginny would be laying cold on the floor. "He loved you and you threw him away", her unflinching gaze spearing Ginny's eyes with anger and guilt. Hermione shouldered past Ron towards the floo as she snarled at the youngest Weasley, "He deserved better". _From both of us_.

"Mistress Granger, before you leave, would you not like to know of Master Harry?" Kreacher's gentle rebuke caused a fresh bloom of embarrassed crimson to suffuse her face.

"Please Kreacher, what do you know?" She said falteringly.

"Master Harry has left for America, the fight with the Dark Lord had ... unexpected results which requires experimental treatment. He is unsure if … when he will return", Kreacher finished his announcement in barely a whisper. The silence crashing about the room was deafening, broken only with the soft sobs of both Hermione and Ginny.

* * *

Ron sat alone at Grimmauld Place nursing a glass of firewhiskey. Replaying the events of the afternoon, his mind began connecting loose ends. He knew the reason behind Hermione's savage defense of Harry, he would be blind not to see that she had feelings, real feelings, for Harry. Jealousy threatened to pour from his heart, but he crushed it quickly, if she loved him it was because Harry was everything he wasn't: considerate, loving, supportive...there for her when she needed it last year. The overwhelming list quickly grew while Ron held his head in his hands.

He had always been jealous of Harry, whether for his fame or money. And it made Ron that much more pathetic knowing Harry would give all of it away for just a day with his parents, or the life and family that Ron always took for granted. The fact that Harry always forgave Ron's pettiness was just more evidence for his self-excoriation.

But Ron's resentment went far deeper than trappings. Harry was the reason he and Hermione even knew each other at all, the bridge between all the DA members, like when he befriended Luna despite her reputation. People were drawn to Harry because he loved them, more than he loved himself, willing to sacrifice anything for them, this rare quality was a power that not many understood, not just Voldemort.

Slugging back the rest of the steaming drink, Ron exhaled slowly.

He was jealous because Harry was simply a better man, in all the ways that counted.

**A/N: I know its popular to bash Ron in almost every fic out there, and it is justified. Ron in this story is a lot less of a foil and more of a person. As far as Hermione, she has been through so much with Harry, that to have feelings for him as well as have him wrenched away possibly for good, caused her to react in crushing Ginny. I have a pretty clear idea where the characters are and where they are going, but any suggestions/comments would be awesome!**

**Still looking for a beta to grammar check and to make sure that I didn't misremember any of the Harry Potter Universe.**


	5. Chapter 5 - Life and Death

Chapter 4 – Life and Death

Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.

**Summary: Harry assembled his closest friends at Grimmauld Place and gave each of them meaningful gifts. Ginny received Harry's first snitch as her entire gift and was understandably upset. Hermione shouted Ginny down and vented her feelings for Harry at the youngest Weasley. They discover that Harry has left to America to receive some treatment to help him recover from injuries suffered during the War. It is unknown whether he will survive or return.**

**A/N: I would like to thank the reviews and follows that this story has gotten. I know it is a bit angsty now and it seems like Ginny is getting bashed pretty hard, but it only lasts a few more chapters, and there is good reason for the conflict. Also this chapter shows some of why she and Dean are together. **

Harry arrived in America with little fanfare and he rather enjoyed the anonymity. It helped that he flooed into the lobby of the treatment facility. His senses were assaulted by the smell and sounds of the ocean, like at Shell Cottage but closer. He double checked the slip of paper Matheson gave him; he certainly did not expect this. It seemed to be a Muggle resort, complete with umbrella drinks and people walking around in bathing suits.

The completely confused look on his face made it easier for the doctors find him. Steering him into a huge room with an amazing view of the ocean, they sat him in a high back chair facing the most normal looking wizard Harry had seen in quite a while. A small middle-aged Japanese man sat in a thick leather office chair, dressed in a smart pink polo shirt and crisp white linen pants. He gave a small smile as he stretched out a slightly tattooed arm, "Harry Potter? Hideki Saito. Come let's take a walk. I'll show you around." They exited the back of the office and stepped directly on to warm white sand.

As they walked out to the beach, Dr. Saito kept quiet, instead looking Harry over. Judging him for whatever reason Harry did not really mind, he was used to it. He was also giving the man a once over. Hideki was a small man maybe a few inches shorter than himself with neat hair and sharp glasses, he looked professorial almost. Like a Japanese Remus, perhaps not as threadbare, but the quiet dignity and intelligence beamed off of him, but his eyes were different though, they held a mischievous glint to them. Harry's eyes strayed to the tattoo on his right arm and a familiar anger flashed into his eyes.

Hideki noticed him glance at the tattoo on his forearm, "Not the dark mark, I assure you. If you need more reassurance", he shrugged his shoulders then tossed him his wand. "Good enough?"

Giving a wry smile, "Good enough. So, umm, where is this place, what kind of treatments do I get here, manicures, massages?" Harry winced at how childish that sounded. _Fifteen minutes here and I sound like a bloody silly teenager, great. _His nervousness bled over and he began unconsciously twirling Saito's wand.

Dr. Saito snorted and arched an eyebrow to the young man. "If you feel that is necessary Mr. Potter, but how about we start with some information before you make use of the facilities. As far as where you are, this is a Muggle resort, what better place to confund Muggles than with alcohol and bathing suits?" he deadpanned. If he waggled his eyebrows, it would have been a reasonable likeness to Sirius. That thought staggered Harry and he stumbled slightly in the sand.

The small man, with surprising strength, pulled him up with ease, as a concerned look flitted across his features, "Perhaps only information now and we'll let you recover from your ordeal. Let's head to a cabana, and get you off your feet" Hideki raised his hand in supplication, "The treatments can wait until you are more fit; the information is weighty enough, trust me."

"I do" Harry said as he threw the doctor's wand back with a smirk.

* * *

"What do you know of magic, Harry Potter?" He said with a remarkably good Dumbledore impression. Internally, Harry groaned, he knew this level of vagueness meant a protracted lesson with lots of confusing questions and no real answers. He settled deeper into the beach cabana, he had better get comfortable.

"Never mind Harry, your face says it all, a little impatient, perhaps suffered enough under Albus? He is correct in teaching most things the way he does. I just think he enjoys deciding what's good for people because he keeps all the secrets" Saito gestured off handedly. "The ideas I espouse are controversial at best, traitorous at worst, so naturally he and I don't get along. Too many secrets amongst us old folks." He added with a wink.

"Dr. Saito, ummm, Albus Dumbledore is dead". Harry's voice trembled very little, a fact that was not lost of the Japanese man.

Hideki cleared his throat rather loudly, and a sheepish thin smile appeared on his face,"I am sorry to hear that, he was a man of real conviction, though his aim was a little … skewed." Apparently Dr. Saito shared much of his feelings about the former Headmaster, "Back to the matter at hand, what do you know of magic?"

"I know magic is different across races, goblins, house-elves, wizards. Wands are important but not essential." Harry was about to drone on more about theories, when Dr. Saito stopped him.

"Perhaps this will be faster than I thought", the doctor mused. "Our idea and treatment revolve around this one premise, magic is primal and essential. It exists everywhere for everyone. The key is tapping into it. Muggles even do it, they refine it through technology. Ever wonder why goblins collect gold? Wizard history tells you they are greedy for gold, but here you will know better. Goblins need precious metals to focus their magic, like wands for most wizards, notice how they gravitate towards metal working, mining ore, or sitting on the largest piles of silver and gold in the wizarding world?" He finished with a conspiratorial whisper and a wink.

Harry jumped in at the pause, "Is that why house-elves can bypass wizarding wards like apparition wards? They focus in a more basic way, tied to magic at a more natural level?"

Dr. Saito's smile grew impossibly large, "Indeed Harry Potter, believing this is so, instead of that drivel about wand superiority or even necessity, will help greatly. Wands are crutches. Did you always need a wand to cast magic? I would assume not, in times of stress you didn't swish and flick, you just did. Wand making is a big business and makes easy the tracing of one's magic. Much harder to track and catalogue people and why give magic away when you can chain people for fifteen Galleons a wand?"

Harry's sneer was all the affirmation that Hideki needed to see. Having been manipulated and controlled from the time he was one, made it easy to spot the possible conspiracy. "But, doctor, how do you control magic without a wand, consciously I didn't jump to escape bullies, I just wanted to get away and it happened?"

"Ahh, well now we are at the reason for your arrival. Your magic core is growing and bonding to you again, I am sure you have been told how rare this spontaneous internal growth is at your age. It is so rare because you know control before your magic has completely suffused. With children, magic, accidental as it may be, comes before control. It is our task here, to bring that magic to the conscious mind. To have you cast spells not gesturing like you are swatting flies, but to think and have it happen, like when you were young, err _younger_."

Harry's eyes were unfocused and glazed over as he tried to make sense of it. _When I was a child, I made magic happen subconsciously, when scared or angry. Now that I am older, could I direct my newer magic with my mind instead of a wand? How would I even gain that kind of focus?_ Harry liked the idea in theory because it gave him an avenue to control his fluctuating magic and emotions, he just lacked control. Get control and be able to go back home _for good_.

"And you know how to make this happen? Can we discuss this a bit later, I really need to think about this..." His eyes followed a wandering co-ed. "Because I need to go, to a funeral, I mean." Harry blushed in the blonde girl's direction, then looked down as the guilt of Fred's death stormed on him again.

Saito's eyes softened, he knew Harry's story, almost all of it, and just for a moment, he was a normal lusty teenager. Harry reminded him of his own son, crushed under weighty expectations, and a small idea began to bloom in his mind. It would not be fair to either of them, especially Harry, but an opportunity lay here to test his theories, both of them.

As it was, Harry was going home if only for a short visit. Fred's funeral would be a large gamble to stay clear of the Unspeakables, but an oath is an oath, even when it's not a magical one.

* * *

The last two days had been so very uncomfortable at the Burrow, Hermione and Ginny were still shooting daggers at each other along with not speaking. In the small confines of the Weasley home, one of them basically had to be outside at all times. That suited Hermione fine, she was busy poring over the Potter tomes, looking for anything to help Harry. Recessive diseases in the family line, different properties of the Potters, anything she could find to help find him or what was troubling him was devoured in short order.

Ginny, however, needed to move, to exercise her tension off. Quidditch seemed wrong without Fred; it would be wonderful again to fly, just not right now. And the increased Auror presence meant privacy of any kind was out, which was disappointing because she needed the easy reassurance of physical comfort. It wasn't snogging that she wanted; she needed to touch someone and know they wouldn't disappear like Fred … _or_ _Harry_.

She felt so distanced from him, the last year turning their relationship upside down. Ginny was under no illusion that her relationship with Dean was healthy; it was born of desperation to stay connected to someone when everything seemed so lonely. She was no slag, they hadn't experimented very far; there was neither the time nor mood to try anything intimate. She was also jealous of Hermione, she was the one that Harry chose to go on his quest; she knew all of the legitimate reasons, but it still hurt. It was Ginny's place to support him and give him strength, and since Hermione had her brother, Harry was her responsibility.

Ginny sat at the edge of the front row at the pavilion still lost in her mind. The funeral was planned much like Bill's wedding, it had to be at the Burrow, this was Fred's home and Molly wanted her boy close by. Instead of a happy couple, there was a lectern for eulogies, instead of joy, there was bittersweet sadness and survivor's guilt. She absently reached for a hand, and sighed audibly when she remembered that Dean wasn't here. Dean, for all his chivalry and supportiveness, still felt as an intruder to the Weasleys especially in this time of grieving. He wasn't Harry, and never could be. Ginny hoped her family would give him a chance, but for now it was just too uncomfortable. Especially since Ginny wasn't even sure what to make of their relationship. He told her this morning that he would be unable to attend the funeral, seeing as how it was a time to share with family.

He couldn't be there at the Burrow, Ginny wasn't meant for him; she, herself, had dreams of being with Harry since before she could remember. _At least Mom got one relationship she wanted_. She glared at the other end of the row at Ron and his _girlfriend._ Not for the first time today she cursed Dean silently for leaving her alone for that factor alone. Unfairly or not, she also blamed Harry, he should be here to honor Fred, he should be the one comforting her instead of Dean. Fuming she turned towards the dais, wishing for a quick end to the formalities, so that they could honor Fred personally without the Ministry fanfare.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the Weasleys, a dark cloaked man watched the proceedings hundreds of feet away. He was quickly joined by a statuesque woman carrying a small bundle. After a cursory nod, the pair began talking animatedly.

"Then I hope you understand why I can't be here." Harry finished his story with a trembling voice. "Is this him?" he asked through the tears in his eyes.

"It is, this is your godson, Harry." Andromeda sternly considered Teddy's godfather, she knew what the Prophet wrote, which led to her reservations about Remus and Nymphadora's decision, but then she heard him tell his story. His life contained so much loss that even Andromeda's losses paled. They both lost loved ones, but Harry was the one who had to leave everything and start a life somewhere else. She sadly watched the first and probably last meeting between Teddy and Harry, whose face was a frenzy of emotions.

Oblivious to her judgments, Harry held onto Teddy as if he were an anchor to life itself. In his arms he held the most painful reminder of his failure, a boy like Tom and himself, forced to live without parents. That horrible realization was only made much worse that he would have to leave the only real family he had left, even being here was risking the wrath of the Unspeakables.

Andromeda's delicate hand broke his reverie, her kind eyes held no anger, just an intense sadness that shamed Harry. He stared hard at the ground, until those same soft hands brought his face up to hers. "Remus chose well, you may look like your father, but your kindness is like Lily". Harry merely nodded, eyes turning back to drink in the sight of his godson. The boy's hair had turned a raven black and his eyes a brilliant green, to match the teen staring down at him. Harry's awed smile placed a deep ache into Andromeda's heart, losing this was just another trial Harry would have to suffer. He was a decent man, one whose time had come and past, but who still suffered from being everything the Wizarding world needed.

Harry's happiness lasted until the final eulogies after which the weeping began in earnest. The sobering sounds carried on the wind reminding Harry of why he was here. He grudgingly turned his eyes to the pavilion and noticed the dispersing crowd. Handing Teddy back to his grandmother, Harry gritted his teeth at the meetings that were coming. His guilt was still nearly overwhelming and even being here seemed wrong, he had no right to be here honoring someone he helped die. His frown deepened when he saw the red haired girl marching towards him with both Hermione and Ron in tow. He noticed that George was alone near the headstone, no doubt talking to his twin.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny's voice was confused, her pain was palpable; Hermione's words fresh in her mind as well as her own thoughts.

"I promised George I would come and I had to see Teddy before I left." Harry's admission placed the cold truth before his own eyes and whatever else he wanted to say died on his lips. _This may be the last time I see him, see any of them._

"That's all?" Ginny asked incredulously. _He couldn't just leave like this, he couldn't be this cold. He loved me…_

"Where's Dean?" Harry replied with a stony gaze.

"He's not here", Ginny spat, "Well now that you fulfilled your promise, you can go ahead and leave. Since there's nothing else for you here..." She was shaking with the effort to stay calm, looking like she would snap in half under the strain, her tears streaming down her face. _So Hermione was right, it was Dean. I needed him and Dean was there for me then, but even now he won't even fight for it. He'd rather be an asshole. _Ginny's pride flared in her heart, she was not some simpering fan girl anymore.

"Leave, like you always do. GO! Run, you abandoned me once, why not again! You are a coward, Harry Potter. We don't want you here, just leave!" Ginny's screaming battered his heart. If Harry hadn't be so consumed in guilt and anger at already being forced from the only family and home he had even known, he would have heard Ginny's love barely concealed in her wild screaming. Ginny dismissing him and calling him a coward was all it took to immediately convert his guilt to cold wrath. An unfamiliar surge of rage welled inside his stomach and Harry's voice gave birth to it instinctively.

"Shut up". The words came out clear and low, laced with real venom. Hermione's hand flew up to her mouth in shock, and Ron took two steps back as if he were punched in the gut. The air had stilled and an unnatural charge settled around them, as if waiting for a tempest.

"I gave up everything to keep _you_ safe, to keep all of you safe. I risked my life to save your family and you." Harry hissed through clenched teeth. "My _cowardly_ love saved you", Harry gave a derisive laugh. "It won't happen again", his icy green stare struck Ginny's heart and her eyes couldn't contain the devastation it wrought. Hermione felt his furious eyes drift to hers and she had to look away, she knew those words weren't only meant for Ginny.

She felt a charge in the air, the hostility and power pressing on her lessened and an intense white light flared. The raven haired wizard was gone.

As the spots cleared from her vision, it was replaced by a furious George Weasley. Red with rage, he pointed at Ginny, "WHAT. HAVE. YOU. DONE?"

"I brought him here! To be loved by the only family he has left, to know that Fred wasn't his fault..." George was apoplectic. "He has no one, to prop him up and keep him breathing until he learns how again. You stole that chance from him! I swear Ginevra, if we find him dead..." George couldn't finish speaking, his voice failing him when he saw Ginny's face. There was nothing there but desolation and utter misery. She wanted Harry to fight, to tell her what she already knew, that he loved her, but she had pushed too hard and something in Harry had snapped.

She felt a comforting hug around her and George's voice whisper in her ear, "I am so sorry Ginny, I didn't know, I thought … Dean..." She shook her head numbly, against her brother's chest. George glanced about and whispered something for her ears' only, "You can't be with him now; no one can." George pulled her back into an embrace as she fought to get away. "Listen. Ginny, listen, Harry is lost in every way possible; we just have to hope and pray that the Harry we love survives." Silent tears ran down Ginny's face as she balled her fists into her brother's shirt.

Everyone was so absorbed in their own thoughts; they didn't notice the two Ministry officials, cloaked in black, slowly holster their wands and apparate away. The light from the tracking spell faded into the late afternoon sun as George consoled his baby sister.

**A/N: A bit of foreshadowing for the next few chapters, the pace will pick up and spells will start flying soon. Reviews are great so keep them coming.**


	6. Chapter 6 - Prophecy

Chapter 5 – Meeting new friends

Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.

**Summary: Harry arrived in America and met his healer, Dr. Hideki Saito (OC) who explained the theory of magic and Harry's treatment plan. His theory is that the essence of magic is channeled in different ways by different beings. Ginny's relationship to Dean was further explained as a way to cope with the terrible circumstances at Hogwarts. Harry returned for Fred's funeral where he saw his godson for the first and possibly last time, and dealt with Ginny's raw emotions. He lost his emotional control, again like Matheson predicted, and excoriated both Ginny and Hermione in his anger. The end was a teaser that leads into this chapter.**

**A/N: Thank you for all of the viewership to this story. It seemed to explode overnight and the extra follows, favs, and reviews are quite humbling to me as this is my first fic. That some of you like the story is quite an honor, so again I thank you all. Super thanks to DMacX whose review was something I wanted to post personally. I know this isn't the standard Ginny/Harry fare, but I hope you will stick with it because I have enjoyed writing it. Still looking for a beta, especially for the British slang and idioms, I am but a poor American and am unfamiliar with all but a few. This is the first magical fight scene I have written and it is pretty graphic, but hopefully awesome. Read, review, and enjoy!**

Ron had spent the last two weeks since the funeral trying to keep Hermione and Ginny from killing each other. Arguments erupted over anything and everything, mercifully no hexing had occurred, but he wasn't sure how much longer that would last. When Kingsley mentioned he secured a portkey to Australia for Hermione, Ron jumped at the chance. It would do both of them some good to get away, though Ron was really anxious because he wasn't sure how to be around Hermione when she was in this much tumult. Ron, by Hermione's own admission, had the emotional range of a teaspoon, and that didn't afford him much experience in how to help his nervous girlfriend.

Hermione had been inconsolable for a few days after the funeral, the abrupt disappearance of Harry left her no way to talk to him and work out the chaos in her mind. Adding to that misery was that Harry was the person she ran to when working through something like this; she needed his love and compassion. Ron tried to fill those shoes, but they were just two different people. In her alone time, she poured over the diaries she got from the Potter library, hoping for glimpses of Harry that could soothe her loss. The trip to Australia was also a boon to her, something to _do_, the beginnings of purpose.

The trip was open-ended, Australia was a large continent, and she wasn't sure if her parents would have moved. Planning for a two month trip, the pair decided to travel to Gringotts to exchange Galleons for some Australian dollars. Standing in the lobby of the venerable bank, she let Ron exchange some of their money. George had lent him some of the weekly investment from Harry, knowing that when the dividends from partial ownership in the Cannons arrived, Ron would easily cover that debt. Hermione had used some of her money from Harry to exchange, it was silly but it made her feel as if he were coming along in some small way, that he was helping make it possible. While Ron was standing in line, she excused herself to head to the Potter vault to look for books on memory charms and useful spells.

Honestly, Hermione just wanted to pack a new set of Potter diaries. She knew the final two journals from James Potter were about his married life and the birth of Harry. It was a cheap imitation of having him here, but it was something. Tears formed in her eyes, _I miss him_. She would never say it aloud, that would make everything too real and make her compare Ron and Harry. It would be unfair considering her history with both boys, and it was something she consciously avoided. Lost in her thoughts, she reached for the journals and found nothing. She blinked and looked again, the shelves were now empty, the dust looked freshly disturbed. She went back to the vault door and signaled the cart driver, "Excuse me, when was this vault last visited?"

"Lord Potter was here two days ago, as for the reason for his visit I am not at liberty to say. He left you a message though."

"What, what did he say?" Hermione was both hopeful and wary; Harry was definitely not himself that day and remembering his cold smoldering stare sent a chill down Hermione's spine.

"Dumbledore was wrong. Love wasn't enough." With that, the goblin turned and escorted the confused bushy haired witch back to the lobby.

* * *

Harry was exhausted; Dr. Saito's treatment regimen was insane. Beachside runs in the morning, careful constructed meals to maximize nutrient efficiency, training of the mind. He even had Harry practicing Kundalini and Tantric Yoga to direct his magical flow, but as Hideki said, "If nothing else, it'll help with your lady friends". Harry swore he was a shorter, less aristocratic Sirius, perhaps even more lewd, if that was even possible.

And that was just before lunch. The savage workout and training regimen was something of a blessing. It was work from sun up until dinner with no real time for reflection except for a small window before bed time. The Wizarding war and Ginny's piercing words were always hovering near his conscious mind waiting to overwhelm him with guilt. _Who knew that someone you loved had the power to hurt you so badly?_ It had been two days after the funeral before Harry could bring himself to feel again. Her words cut him to the core, it was everything he was afraid of, being rejected, alone, feeling incapable of being loved, and so he latched on to reading his father's journals. The day to day living of his father provided some comfort and knowledge that he was indeed loved and cherished and every day since Harry collapsed into bed with dreams of his parents and family.

That he was so exhausted seemed unnatural because he wasn't using any magic, except for the bare amount used in training his mind and consciously locating his magic and bringing it into his mind. Surprisingly, there was no spell casting, learning new spells, or dueling. It was all theory of magic, and philosophy. Especially prominent was the Book of Five Rings. Saito made sure Harry read it over and over, specifically the book of Void. The iterations of moving and attacking without conscious mind seemed to coincide with the philosophy Saito was trying to drill into him. He was so drained at nights, it seemed that all his actions were without real thought, even eating became automatic.

After lunch it was a different regimen, weight training, more running, and talks with Hideki. They ranged everywhere, no topic was off limits, women, his feelings about Ginny, war, magic, honor, Americana, music. Those two hours were definitely the highlight of his day. Those talks weren't all study, but it was all important. They showed Dr. Saito not only as a therapist, but more of an adult figure who was willing to talk, to challenge when necessary, a bit like what Sirius meant. At first, Harry felt Dr. Saito was more like Remus, but damn that Japanese man's mind was filthy and he had a gift of pranking while training. When Harry was on autopilot especially at meals, Hideki would slip in a mountain of wasabi on his food. "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Saito would roar in between howls of laughter as Harry's face collapsed into absolute pain. He had even once tried a numbing charm on his tongue, but the molten heat persisted throughout the night.

Harry collapsed into a hammock after four nutritive potions, every part of his body yearned for rest, _that damn doctor is trying to run me into the ground_. He groaned knowing that tomorrow would be another day of hell in paradise. His body was finished for the day, but his mind would not be quiet. He glanced at the clock, 8:00 pm, _you can't be serious. Time for a bit of light journal reading. All this reading, Hermione would be jealous._ Snorting out loud, he grabbed his father's diary almost reverently and skimmed through it until, with cold blood and shaking hands, the diary ensnared all of his senses.

_September 7__th__ 1980 – _

_There is a fear that is growing in my mind, as I look upon my son, I know that the Order will not be enough. My faith in Albus is failing, he has hidden the prophecy from us but I know of it. Lily, my sweet Lily, doesn't know about Japan, but Saito sensei and the Legion have given me hope. I can't keep her in the dark any longer, she HAS to come with me next time, she needs to know, to have hope. I will do anything and everything to protect my family, even accepting the burden of my birthright. Merlin forgive me._

Harry's whole body was shaking with a torrent of emotions after reading his father's testament. There was no doubt as to why Dumbledore sought magical guardianship over him, thereby voiding his ability to access his vault. This passage alone would have destroyed all the old man's attempts to mold him, _hiding his complicity all for the Greater Good_.

With calming breaths, Harry examined the passage again.

_Saito sensei … that is not a coincidence, it couldn't be_. Coincidence maybe about the names, but to be referred to him as the only option as doctor, after conveniently being pushed out of Britain. Coincidence and the Unspeakables did not happen, unless it was meant to. His mind flashed back to Dumbledore, the War, and here it was happening all over again. _I am so sick of this bullshit. I am not a chess piece anymore._ Another surge of anger pushed him out of bed, his lack of control fueling his body's recovery. Harry's rage demanded answers now, and as he dragged his weary body down to Hideki's room, his thoughts lingered on the last sentences. _Birthright… forgive me?_

* * *

Hideki Saito felt his patient approaching before the sounds of his sandals echoed down the hallway. _He couldn't have discovered the truth yet, the reason why he was here, but if Harry has an inkling, I will let him in and give him the choice, something that Albus never gave him or his father. I will not betray his father's memory, the man's honor and oath demanded respect and loyalty. He is much more like James than even I realized._

The slight Japanese man sighed and prepared his body for the brunt of Harry's anger. It wasn't long before Harry flung open the door. He slammed his father's diary down on the desk, and with a long exhale to compose himself, "You knew of my father, tell me what you know. Now." The last demand came out low and promising agony. Harry's eyes were glowing green and flickered while piercing Hideki's almond brown eyes, he sat down across from Saito never dropping his gaze.

Hideki Saito measured the young Potter carefully, _I owe him something, but he is in no place to listen, the harsh truth then, all of it _"I did not know James, my father did. And because of it, he was murdered, now they are both dead, and you are here, alive." He lashed his retort out knowing that the anger and pain in it would still Harry's anger with guilt.

Whatever Harry expected to hear, this was not it. Blinking hard, he absorbed Saito's harsh words. Sagging into the chair, all the fight seemed to flee him. "It must be a Potter curse to have people dying all around us", Harry offered weakly, "I am sorry about your father.

"Indeed." He replied dispassionately. Saito was already combing through the passage that Harry had so ingloriously placed in front of him. "My father believed in your father, and gave his life to help him. It is no coincidence that we are here, the two of us, these years later. I cannot trust you in your current state with your father's legacy right now, but perhaps I can show you the beginning." I will need to access your mind, do you still trust me?" The doctor held up his wand, mockingly.

Harry nodded, "Show me".

Harry's eyes narrowed as the scene sharpened in his mind. It was the death of his parents, _again_. The same scene he saw when near Voldemort, Dementors, or when dreaming. Hideki noticed the impatience and quickly admonished him. "Harry you have to concentrate, this is important, this is the why of your parents' death."

"They died because of the killing curse, Saito." Harry sneered.

"That is the how" Hideki snapped back. "Just watch Harry, and be open to the why." Saito's disappointment was evident even in Harry's mind. It finally registered deep within Harry that this man's father was killed to protect his parents and because of it, him. He owed this man at least his attention. A bit shamed, Harry turned a laser like focus to the images taking in everything.

His father coalesced in his mind at the base of the stairs, and he watched as Voldemort advanced on him. Harry wanted to shut his eyes, shut away the pain, but Hideki's words rang harshly in his ears, this was important and he had to see.

"_What do you see, Harry?"_

"_My … father"_

"_What else, be open to your surroundings"_

"_My father … he is at the base of the stairs, and he is … wandless?" The question lingered in his mind for a long pause. "Why is he wandless, if he knew the prophecy, if he knew Voldemort was coming?" _

"_What else is he doing?"_

"_He is muttering something, it can't be wandless magic, nothing is happening, I can't make out what he is saying." _

"_I can_" Hideki's words cut across Harry's mind and the scene focused in sharper clarity. _"Harry, your father is bringing his ancestry to bear; it is a technique my father must have showed him. This is the Binding, a ritual of olden times. He is binding his magic to you and your mother. The strain on him is immense. Especially for one so young." _Harry had noticed quite early that his father wasn't baiting or confronting Voldemort, he was retreating to the stairs. _To buy time_. The face of his father was contorted so harshly, that Harry had trouble watching him in agony.

"_No." _A reverential whisper rang loudly over the scene, "_He is drawing in the Fade."_

"_Wait, what, what does that mean?"_ Harry's bewilderment was overwhelming his impatience.

"_He was dying or even dead before the killing curse touched him. Your father drew and bound all of his magic to you and your mother. He tapped into the raw ambient magic, the Fade, including even the Fidelius charm of this very house and passed it along. Doing so would have killed him." _Saito's reverence was touched with an immense sadness for Harry, here he was almost 18 years old, and still unaware of his parents true love for him.

Moments before the green light pierced his father's chest, Harry saw the life flee his father's eyes and his anguished face relax. Harry held his breath, awed at his father's sacrifice, all of the stories of his parents' deaths, all of them always revolved around his mother's love, but here was proof that his father gave just as much if not more to protect him. Harry's tears ran freely down his face as the scene changed in his mind again.

Inside the nursery, Harry did not wait for Hideki's prompting, _"My mother is wandless too, is she drawing from the Void also?"_

"_No Harry, the ancient and Arcane ways are from your father and him alone. However, Albus was correct, what your mother will do is also old magic, elemental. Your mother inherited all of your father's magic and all of the magical wards and charms in this house, and with her love gave it form and substance. A wand could not contain all of their combined magic. Your mother, she is channeling it, herself, through her."_ Hideki's voice was soft and laden with sorrow. _"It is ancient magic, created through sheer desperation … she could not have survived for long."_

"_Is that why the house never recovered?" _Harry watched as the nursery exploded all around his baby form.

"_The magic released in that shield and charm placed upon you would have destroyed much of that home and infused it with an elemental kind of magic. One that is dangerous and volatile to disturb unless one understood what it truly was and how to harness and dispel it."_

Harry gently pushed Hideki from his mind and asked the most pertinent question to his doctor, "Who was your father and why did he have to die?" His mind and body were exhausted but Harry would not leave until he knew of Hideki's father and honored him.

Hideki Saito sighed and leaned heavily back into his plush leather chair. He was tempted to tell young Potter about his father and legacy; it was his birthright after all. It wasn't that the doctor didn't think Harry up to the responsibility, couldn't handle the pressure, or any of that nonsense Albus would have convinced himself of, Saito wasn't sure if he could trust him with the Legion, itself. As he began to tell the tale of his father, Harry cocked his head and held up a warning hand. With his therapies and being free of Voldemort's insidious presence, Harry would on occasion feel magic, wards and runes in particular, like he was tied to the more ancient forms of magic.

"Anti-disapparition wards are in place." Harry's battle instincts, sharpened by reading the Five Rings, were taking over, he looked around Saito's suite and nodded to himself, "This room is a kill zone, we don't stand a chance here, we need to leave. Now." He slid an extendable ear under the door and backed away towards Saito's desk.

"Our contact at the ministry was right, he is here. He said he was weakened too, that the Dark Lord damaged him irrevocably." A raspy voiced giggled slightly. The voice was coming closer and the footsteps indicated a woman with high boots on and a heavier step echoing afterwards.

"Alecto, shouldn't we wait for the others? This is the Chosen One, after all." A thicker voice asked hesitantly. A resounding slap filtered down the hallway of the resort and a small hiss of pain quickly followed.

"Our source is correct and what better way to get the Dark Mark, Stevens? The other teams will be arriving shortly; there is no reason to … delay our fun." Alecto's maniacal giggling left little to the imagination.

_Shit. Alecto meant trouble_, Harry was exhausted and if they didn't get out of this room they would be dead in minutes, unless Alecto decided it was time to play. That option was far less appealing she liked to play in the same way as Greyback, from what he remembered from the Battle at Hogwarts. He glanced at Hideki who had a look of trepidation, not necessarily fear, but when Harry held up his wand and he shook his head no, a glint of panic rose in the doctor's eyes. Harry shut his eyes in frustration and took two calming breaths while motioning Hideki to take cover. Turning to the back wall, Harry shouted, "_Bombarda_". The back wall exploded outwards and the two began to run out to the resort grounds.

"Where are we going Harry?" The Japanese doctor was quite quick on his feet and was barely drawing hard breaths despite the all-out sprint.

"Convention Hall … most space … away from the wards", Harry's voice was ragged as the exhaustion threatened to overtake him. His mind gave way to instinct, they needed the open space of the hall, Hideki had no wand and seemingly little magical talent, he was exhausted, and more enemies were coming; meaning this battle needed to be quick and decisive. _Anything and everything,_ his father's words brought a cold smile to Harry's face.

Crashing into the Convention Hall, Harry directed Saito to the far edge of the building to remain under a few tables. Chanting a quick Locking spell, Harry knocked over a few tables in the hall, scattering the wooden chairs. The cavernous room was set with multiple long tables with chairs all facing an enormous dais with two lecterns. Whether set up for a business meeting or a debate, Harry didn't care, he set about turning the tables over to provide more cover. He estimated another minute or so before Alecto and Stevens found them, so he banished the cloth draperies towards the entrances and levitated them over the doors. A few flicks later, the wood around the doorway was transfigured to metal. The silence was deafening, though even with the quiet, Harry could not locate Hideki. Then he saw the faint flash beyond the door and a reedy female voice call the obvious counter curse, "_Alohomora_".

* * *

George stood just inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes staring at all the products that he and his beloved brother, Fred, had designed. It was so empty and cold without him that George had wondered if he could even stand being in this store for another minute. As he began to pull all the plastic wraps off of all the counters, he thought about what Harry had said to him at the lake. Did he want revenge on those bastards that killed Fred, absolutely, but George had enough death and devastation for his lifetime. This joke shop was his home, what he was meant to do, but he would be lying if he didn't hope that Harry would make good on his promise to bring vengeance to those that took his twin. He recalled the first list of items that Harry needed and looked around the shop for a safe room to house his new inventions. They weren't exactly going to be dark artifacts, but to have them worked on in the open would certainly raise a few eyebrows. Absently, George picked up a self-writing quill and began to dictate the supplies he would need to furnish a back room laboratory. When he reached the back of the store, where the inventory lay, he noticed at the back of that room, there was a note pinned on the wall.

_Don't think I left without giving you a secret lab. If it's too hard, I understand, the Oath is breakable by stating 'Mischief Managed' while touching this parchment inside. But maybe look inside first, it's top shelf. Needs just a bit of blood on the wall, don't go hacking off your arm. – Fellow Marauder_

George could feel Harry's grin when writing the note because it matched the very same one that he had. Touching the wall with a pricked fingertip, it vanished and the inside left George gobsmacked. Cauldrons of every kind, crystal, stone, iron, shelves upon shelves of reagents even more than Snape's potion storeroom. There were mannequins with cloaks, rings of all metals, and along the near wall were shelves of books, runic books, enchanting books, Harry had given him a research and development laboratory. The room was enormous, beyond the normal wizarding enlarging charms, this looked to be goblin or house elf magic. George's answer came moments later when a quiet crack echoed in the space.

"Master George, Master Harry sends his regards", Kreacher stood at attention wearing a simple labcoat and custom goggles to fit over his protruding eyes looking like a rather bookish dragonfly.

George chuckled slightly at the house elf. He noticed the elf waiting for a response from him, and waved his arm at the room, "Okay Kreacher, we have three new projects for Harry, we'll need syringes, these reagents and two cauldrons. I need these three books, and that cloak there. And what do you know about ink, Kreacher?" The house elf was collecting all the ingredients on Fred's list as he took in the amazing room. He pinned the parchment next to the exit door, and turned to see all the work laid out on the crystal table tops.

George felt the faint stirrings of excitement deep inside his heart, the first since Fred's death, "Alright Kreacher, show me what this room can do."

* * *

Harry narrowed his focus to his breathing and to the door. He saw the hesitant push of the door and the tip of a dark wand moments later. The wand's owner was a thick meaty hand, so Harry assumed that meant Stevens, the new recruit. The shimmering around him also meant that he had a shield charm, but it seemed weak and would weaken yet, when he started to panic. He was counting on it. As Stevens eased into the room, Harry felt a little guilty that he was probably the same age. He didn't see Alecto, which meant she was waiting for this boy to absorb the first volley of spells and swoop in later. Harry decided not to keep her waiting.

Dropping the heavy drapery from above the door way, it molded itself to the magical shield, blocking the Death Eaters view. The surprised yell coming from the boy, masked Harry's initial spells, "_Incendio_, _Flagrante," _he also placed a sticking charm on the heavy cloth to the floor and doorway_. _With the cloth burning in a white hot flame all around his shield without the possibility of banishing it, Harry stalked quietly towards the flaming ball of cloth. Firing multiple stunners at the shield to weaken Stevens, Harry kept glancing around for the Carrow sister and Hideki.

Stevens was in a panic, he knew he was trapped in the searing hot capsule around his shield and it was taking almost his whole focus to maintain the magical barrier. When he tried to step back into the hallway, there was a white hot burning travelling up his feet. Gritting his teeth he stepped back to the flaming doorway, his scorched legs buckling under the Flagrante curse. He had to get out to the hallway, and a few more steps would do it. Mercifully, the drapery was beginning to fall away, burned to ash under the extreme heat, and he caught a glimpse of his target. There was a cold smile on his face, but Stevens could only see his eyes, they were glowing green and flickering in the light. He caught the last movements of Harry's wand and looked up, realizing too late that his inexperience cost him dearly. The Reductor curse crashed into the top of the ceiling above the doorway and the weight of the structure bore him into the ground. Prone and pinned to the enchanted metal, Stevens tortured screams continued for over a minute before he stilled, only the twitching of his arms and wand escaped the collapsed mortar and wood.

Alecto reveled in the screams and smells of torched flesh and death; the sound of suffering was delightful, even if it was her own recruit. It did not matter; Harry had revealed himself in dispatching Stevens and she saw how tired he was. _There would be time to play_, she shivered in delight at the prospect.

"Oh Harry", Alecto called out in a sing song voice, "Where are you? My brother says hello. He told me he had one of your Lions and how spirited she was, I hope you won't mind performing for me too. I feel like I deserve a taste, especially from the Chosen One." Harry's face felt the shame and guilt burning across his face; it was his fault that these monsters were at Hogwarts to do whatever they wanted. But now he had a chance for revenge. Alecto's smirk as Harry wheeled on her just fueled his overwhelming anger as he blasted away at her. Her taunts had touched something deep in Harry and as he wildly cursed at her, he knew too late how his spent anger mirrored his failing magic.

Gasping for air, he barely deflected the _Sectumsempra_ curse away from his torso, and into his legs and arms. The biting cold from the wounds distracted him enough that the blasting curse caught him full in the chest, cracking his sternum. Harry coughed up blood as he backed away from Alecto, finally crumpling against a wayward chair. His life was pooling out of him onto the floor, and the witch bent down and drew her finger into a small stream, brought to her nose, then lovingly licked it clean. Her eyes almost fluttered close and returned her gaze to the broken boy before her.

Alecto's disdain splashed across her features, "Chosen One, you are pathetic, even Ms. Brown put up a better fight before Amycus had her." She lazily cast a Cruciatus curse and cackled as Harry stumbled away and collapsed behind a table. "Ah a little fight left in the Golden Boy, maybe when I am done here I can find that Granger bitch, I heard that Bellatrix found her screams to be … delicious. Of course, my brother would like another try at that blood traitor Weasley, he found her to be so … feisty." Alecto's voice rang in Harry's ears and guilt blossomed throughout his mind and suddenly Ginny's emotional tirade fit into place. He hadn't been there to protect them and they had paid dearly. Another cackle sparked something deep and elemental in his magical core, as the rage and fury surge to the surface, Harry's body felt like it was being torn in half, like something was desperately trying to claw its way from his stomach out his back. He looked wildly down, expecting to his organs spilling from the imagined gashes, but the skin was unbreached. Harry's breath returned to him, only to see Alecto cast another blasting curse catching him in the arm and sending him into a lectern smashing it to pieces, and separating his shoulder. Squeezing his eyes shut to the pain, he slid to the other end of the dais to the intact lectern. He heard a shuffling from the stage and saw Saito clambered to him, eyes wide with fear and panic. "Harry, you have to focus, I can see it around you, but you must focus your …." Whatever Hideki was saying was torn from his lips as he submitted to the Cruciatus curse, his agony rang out through the Hall.

"Seems that someone else will also have to pay for your weakness, boy" Alecto continued to press the curse onto Dr. Saito. Harry's eyes glazed over and let the pain in his core wash over him, let his soul drink in the anger he felt, and as Hideki's feeble screams ended, Harry's eyes snapped open and his mind went blank.

He felt his magic respond before he called for it, it leapt from his wand almost independent of his charm. He still heard himself call out, "_Accio lectern"_ but by then the magic had manifested and hundreds of shards of wood slammed into Alecto's side, those that missed struck Harry's arms, but his magic was already responding again. Casting a simple _Augamenti_ spell, causing Alecto to laugh in spite of the wood embedded in her flank, she cast a quick cutting curse, which struck Harry's calf opening another vicious wound that began trickling blood. Regarding a soaked Alecto in a pool of water, Harry flicked his wand sending an incendiary spell at her feet causing great clouds of steam to sear her legs to the bone, billowing around her body scalding the bare flesh. It provided enough time for Harry to cast a simple _Engorgio_ on the wooden shards in the witch's side. Swelling in size, the splinters grew into sharpened spikes before some exploded outwards. As the wood tore and pushed into her organs, she screamed with bloody froth springing from her lips. Harry, with eyes glowing green, banished two tables into her chest smashing and pinning her to the intact lectern behind him.

He quickly checked Saito who was wobbling on his feet but recovering from the torture quickly. Harry struggled over to where Alecto's crushed body was held up to the lectern all the while eying her warily. Gurgling through the blood in her mouth, the witch tried to curse Harry again, but Harry was ready. Sidestepping the weak jet of purple light, Harry cast a quick _Expelliarmus, _pulverizing the fingers of her right hand, with Hideki plucking Alecto's wand out of the air, following Harry over to the mortally wounded witch.

Harry's adrenaline was ebbing, and exhaustion was quickly following. He looked over the suffering witch and silently made a decision, "Alecto is dying, Saito, we need to take her to a hosp …", Harry looked on in horror as a curved blade pierced her jugular and gouts of blood sprayed from her neck. He turned quickly and saw Saito standing there with a steely glare in his eyes, Alecto's blood staining his shirt. He fixed his cold glare at Harry, "Your father believed in anything and everything, Harry. No mercy" as he plunged the blade deeper into the rent flesh, pinning Alecto's savaged throat to the lectern. Harry turned away, afraid he might retch at the sight, his face showing revulsion and horror at the ghastly scene.

Giving his injured shoulder a gentle nudge hoping the pain would refocus his attention, Saito calmly asked him, "Remember the others, they are coming. We need a safe house, do you have one and can you take us there?"

Harry nodded and shifted them through the wards in a bright flash and had enough time to register 12 Grimmauld Place before collapsing to the living room floor.

**A/N: This chapter is actually the genesis of this whole story about the Legion, ancient birthrights, and honestly a better story about the death of his parents. It always irked me as a father that James Potter was some sort of ancillary character in Harry's life. The idea that he had a similar role in protecting Harry's life made Harry seem more complex and interesting. Any reviews would be great about what you like and don't. **


	7. Chapter 7 - Return of the Fallen

Chapter 6 – Return of the Fallen

Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.

**Summary: Harry and his healer were attacked during his treatment regimen. They barely escaped when Harry tapped into something his father hinted at in his journal completely draining Harry. George reopened his joke shop, to see that Harry and Kreacher built a secret laboratory to bring Harry's inventions to life. Harry learned of some of the terrible things that happened at Hogwarts on his year on the run. Ron and Hermione left for Australia to retrieve her parents.**

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and responses. Here is a bit of a Harry/Ginny chapter, even if a bit unconventional to prove that yes, it is a H/G fic. I think it's important to show some real consequences to a fight scene, so that provides some of the context here. **

George glanced at the clock in the Cauldron, his nickname for the research lab, and unsurprisingly it was late. Half past ten, he duly noted. He knew he would be on the receiving end of another lengthy Molly Weasley rant about working too much and hiding from dealing with Fred's death. He knew she was just trying to help, but it didn't register to her that this work, _was_ helping. It gave him purpose, a way of honoring Fred both with the joke shop, and now his work in the Cauldron. Wistfully, he wondered what the Weasley clock would say now, working, researching, _avenging_?

He laughed out loud which caught his little lab partner off guard. Kreacher, for all of his quirks as a house elf, was a whirling dervish in the lab. His fervor with helping his master, coupled by his increasing magic aptitude from being bound to Harry, made the elf quite the scientist. He was all arms and hands, like a researching octopus, Kreacher could multitask on three or four projects at once. With all of the elf's help, George merely needed to keep stirring the crystal cauldron and the first serum would be done. The silence of the lab was only disturbed by the slow sloshing of the stirring cauldron and then Kreacher's loud cry, "Master Harry!" and he shot an apologetic glance to George, mouthing the words, "House of Black" before he disappeared with a loud crack.

Kreacher, as a house elf for the Blacks, had encountered all sorts of strangeness in his age, but arriving to see a bloodied Master Harry and a strange middle age Asian man in the living room at Grimmauld Place was certainly high on the list. In true Black fashion, Kreacher had leveled his hands at the stranger and with little preamble, "Move from Master Harry or die". Honestly, he was changing as Harry Potter's house elf, striving and achieving more than he had thought possible, working with Master Weasley was a prime example. Kreacher rather enjoyed the new change and it bound him even more fiercely to his master than before. "Again, you will move from Master Harry, _now_", his voice mirroring his impatience.

Hideki Saito stood, taking in his counterpart's preposterous outfit of shiny white labcoat and goggles dangling from his neck, and managed a small smile. "Bound to Harry Potter then? As am I. Honor bound, in the ancient and arcane ways of life and magic, your master saved my life and I intend to return the favor." Kreacher recalled something familiar deep in the recesses of his mind about what this blood soaked man was speaking of when he heard him speak in a clipped tone, "Hurry, there is not much time and I need your help."

"How can you help Master Harry?"

"You can see it coursing through him. The Fade?" Kreacher nodded unconsciously; there were traces of chaotic color all around his Master. "He is neither strong enough nor experienced enough to channel it properly. It is poisonous and killing him." Kreacher seemed to be moving almost against his own free will as the stranger was speaking of things that the elf did not comprehend fully, but intrinsically understood.

The house elf looked on with his aged eyes as he saw the unfamiliar signature of magic swirl in and out of his prone Master's body and somehow knew what the stranger wanted from him. Kreacher shook his head violently, "I cannot, it is against the wizarding law…"

"And what of the ancient law of service, is that not your highest oath? You are of the arcane and in service of _this_ Master, it must be done and you must do it. _That_ is your law." Hideki snarled viciously, if this elf's reluctance made him fail in this, he would slay the faerie folk where he stood. The battle of wills and stares lasted only a few moments, but Kreacher knew his first and only priority was to Harry and House Black regardless of wizard law. Gingerly he approached his Lord and knelt beside him. Placing both small hands on Harry's chest, Kreacher began mumbling as his body responded to his Master's condition.

Hideki knelt beside them both, entranced at the ritual, even with all of his experience with the Fade and the Arcane, this was something of legend and not spoken of firsthand. Kreacher was coaxing his hands in the air around his master as a light mist began to coalesce around his hands and when it was shaped into a small ball, the elf plunged both hands into it and absorbed it. He slowly brought his glowing hands back to Harry's lacerated limbs and the wounds began to close. Saito heard the distinct sickening crunch of his shoulder popping back into its socket. Kreacher wobbled slightly and sat down with a hard thump. The doctor gave the elf a grateful pat on the shoulder and brought Kreacher a small stool to sit on. Surprised by Hideki's thoughtfulness, Kreacher wearily smiled.

"I feel I am imposing on you again, but is there any way to bind your Master's magic?" He immediately felt the suspicion flare again in the house elf and spoke quickly to head it off. "I mean your Master no harm, he has just drained much of his core and must maintain as much of it as possible to control his healing. He can't lose any more of it intentionally or not."

Kreacher looked over at his wounded Master and saw he was right; Harry needed his strength to recover as much as he could. Allowing himself a small grin, he informed the doctor, "Master Harry already knew this may happen; Master left us instructions on brewing a serum for just such an occasion. Master Harry is a most remarkable wizard." Kreacher's pride swelled immensely at being so helpful to his master. He pointed a small finger at the healer.

"You're bound to him still, do not move while Kreacher is gone." The hard stare of the elf was softened by the small glint in his eye as he popped away returning with George minutes later. Upon viewing his friend's grave wounds, George's grip on the syringes failed scattering them to the floor.

"Holy shit, mate, what happened?" was all George could manage before slumping to the floor barely holding onto consciousness. Hideki had already gathered a syringe with serum and was shooting it into Harry's forearm.

"If you could levitate him to a room, I need to return to my office and gather his records and treatment protocols." Hideki mentioned off hand as he grabbed a pinch of floo powder and yelled "The Biltmore, Santa Barbara" and walked into the green flames.

George squatted there on the floor in disbelief at the last 3 minutes and turned to Kreacher for an explanation about the stranger. The elf waved his hand dismissively, "Honor bound in the ancient magics to Master Harry". George chuckled and it built to a loud roaring laughter with tears running down his face. _Even under drastic medical treatment, Harry couldn't fucking help himself. Had to keep saving the world, one person at a time. _

* * *

Morning came much too quickly for George at the Burrow. Pretending that Harry wasn't nearly comatose from injuries in a pitched wizarding battle was hard enough, to do so with only a few hours of sleep and stress was asking for disaster. It was with that sentiment that George found himself uncharacteristically quiet at breakfast. Judging by Molly's reaction, she had already begun to worry about his falling back into a pattern of depression and George was praying for anything to delay the inevitable. With Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley already at the breakfast table, relief came from an unexpected source. Percy, then Bill and Fleur burst forth from the floo brandishing the Daily Prophet as if it were the Elder Wand itself. "Have you seen the paper?"

Arthur shook his head and beckoned for one of his son's papers. He spread the front page out onto the table disregarding the food as his family gathered quickly.

**The Chosen One Lost?**

**Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, whose recent disappearance has shocked the Wizarding world could not stay hidden for long. Reports have placed the Chosen One in the care of one, Dr. Hideki Saito, a renowned Mind Healer at his United States clinic. Whether or not Harry Potter required his services due to injuries suffered in the final battle with He Who Must Not Be Named is unknown, however, what **_**is**_** known is his battles with Death Eaters seems to be continuing. Late last night, Harry Potter and his doctor were attacked at his clinic, the ensuing battle resulted in the deaths of Alecto Carrow, Death Eater and former Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as well as Ethan Stevens, a pureblood of the Noble house of the same name. Neither Dr. Saito nor Harry Potter were found and are presumed missing. **

**Evan Blackwell reporting**

The silence was punctuated by the small gasp from Ginny as she read the names of the Death Eaters. She was the only one there with intimate knowledge of the cruel witch and she would be lying if she said she wasn't relieved that Alecto was dead. Quickly recovering her composure, she glanced around to see the reactions of her family. Everyone had a shocked look on their faces, except for George who looked exceptionally tired and masked it with a feigned look of surprise. _Definitely having a chat with George later_, mused the redheaded witch. She rejoined the emerging raucous conversations about Harry and whatever issues this Dr. Saito may be helping him with and for the first time in weeks, desperately wished Hermione were here.

Harry's best friend would have at least some theories about what happened or where he went. As intractable as both were when it came to holding grudges or general stubbornness, Harry's welfare was like a black hole for people who knew him. It ensnared even the most cynical or hostile and laid common ground for friendship or reconciliation. Ginny knew it was just a matter of time before she and Hermione were best friends again, but for now she just wanted Hermione's help in finding Harry. As it was, Ginny was more instinctive than analytical, which made her a great Quidditch player and chaser, and that instinct told her to push George on his reaction to the article. When he excused himself to go to work, Ginny followed him outside and quickly closed the front door.

"George, why weren't you as surprised as everyone else about that article? It's like you knew more than you let on. Could it be part of the reason you're never home anymore?" She spoke rapidly to try and rattle her brother into revealing something.

Her brother eyed Ginny calculatingly, wheels turning in his mind. It wasn't worth lying to her, especially with how badly he had misjudged her at Fred's funeral. He palmed the DA Galleon in his pocket activating the new Protean charm and with flowing script pronounced_ I've_ _heard from Harry._ Ginny felt the familiar warmth in her pocket and her eyes flashed with surprise when she pulled the coin from her jeans and saw the script. George put a finger to his lips and whispered to her, "I know where he is, and I owe you one."

"Please George, I need to see him."

As they apparated to the front of Grimmauld Place, George put a heavy hand on her shoulder, pulling her to face him. "Ginny, he is in bad shape, really bad shape. I can't bring you here if you are going throw more daggers at him …"

She gave George a disbelieving look, "I was angry George; you know my temper. I would never do anything to hurt Harry intentionally. It got out of hand, but I swear I just need to _see_ him." _To prove he is alive._ She took a deep calming breath and gave him an impatient nod of her head.

As they entered the Black home, the sour iron stench of blood assaulted Ginny's nose and caused her heart to pound uncomfortably in her chest. She hadn't noticed the sound begin to seep back into her senses as time began to return to normal speed. The screaming from the second floor drove Ginny onward, almost at a sprint to the stairs. George ensnared her arm as she was about to take the stairs two at a time to tell her to calm down. She shook herself free but what Harry screamed next froze her blood and rooted her to the bottom of the stairs, "Amycus will die for what he did." George noticed how pale and unsteady his little sister became. She gripped the bannister as if maintaining her grip on the world, and sagged slightly under the weight of Harry's delirium. George knew how difficult this was for him the first time and without a word, took her hand in his and motioned them up the stairs.

He would have given Ginny all the time she would have needed, but the witch had Gryffindor bravery in spades, and after only a few calming breaths to quiet her shaking legs, she took a final deep breath and eased open the door to Lord Black's bedroom.

It was a scene from a nightmare: blood soaked sheets, the unnerving calm between Harry's screams, with the faint smell of barely restrained death heavy in the air. That was all before she laid her eyes on pale wizard she was in love with since she was eleven and her horrors magnified as she screamed silently. Two jagged furrows ran parallel to his spine as if a giant dragon had lazily drawn its nails down his back, the deep grooves glowed an eerie silver as if molten quicksilver had cauterized the wounds. Across his entire back a lattice work of thin deep lines travelled up and down his back; thin white gossamer scars whispered the shameful secrets of a decade of harsh torture and abuse. Ginny's shoulders shook violently as she shook her head, her eyes refusing and denying the awful truth of Harry's childhood. _Why hadn't he told someone? He had to know it wasn't his fault._

Harry moaned in his delirium as if he felt their weighty stares. He rolled with difficulty to shield his untold secret on his back, and Ginny had to close her eyes to collect herself. The swirling nauseous feeling would not abate and she found herself retching into a bucket Kreacher had conjured there for George a night ago. His chest harbored an opposite lattice work of blackened and discolored capillaries starting from his heart and easing its way down his ribs and left flank marking the work of the Dark Lord's second killing curse. The actual wound over his heart still wept slightly, a tar like ichor staining his bandages. The deep lacerations on his arms and legs hallmarks of the cutting curse, and deep black and purple bruising indicated a broken breastbone.

Ginny was no coward, nor faint of heart, but seeing Harry so damaged made her want to turn and leave, just to have a moment to breathe, but George kept her in the doorway, "This", pointing at him, "This, Ginny, is why he had to leave, this is how he tried to protect you. Harry would rather die than have something like this happen to you. Facing off with Voldemort would have meant nothing to him if you were hurt like this." George needed her to see the reality of Harry's last year, not some fanciful fairy tale of leaving a love behind; these were the vagaries of war and while Ginny was still in shock, George felt the weight of his words taking root.

"What can we do for him? He barely looks alive." Wild panic gripped Ginny, "He is going to live, right, George?"

George's solemn face showed her the gravity of the situation. "Just sit here with him, talk with him". It was not a time for false hope, but realistic expectations. Harry was suffering mightily and the faint rising and falling of his chest were the only signs of being alive.

Ginny's tears were streaming down her face looking at the broken teenager before her. _What could I say, where could I start, did he even want me here with whatever her relationship was with Dean … What does he need … what has he always needed from me? I can stop crying, Harry loved my strength. I could always support him. So stop crying, Ginevra, right now._ Ginny steeled her will and determinedly swept her eyes over Harry taking cool, efficient notes of his condition and what she could do to help.

She heard a slight knock at the door and it opened quietly. Ginny kept her silent vigil over him, not chancing a look backwards, and willed herself to action, _Harry needs me here, I need to be here,_ she called back, "George, I am going to need some new bandages."

Moments later, when the door opened again, she turned to take them from her brother when she saw that it wasn't him at all, instead stood an unfamiliar older man with Asian features. She spun quickly placing herself between the man and Harry and leveled her wand at him, protectively snarling, "Who the FUCK are you?"

"Dr. Hideki Saito", he said, bowing slightly "and you must be Ginevra, Harry has spoken at great length of you … and your temper", he chuckled slightly. Ginny's blushing was not lost on the doctor and very carefully, he slowly raised his hand and redirected her wand tip away from his face. "I am Harry's mind and body healer, the one in charge of his therapies and the author of that fabulous Prophet article." He gave a cheeky wink at Ginny's bewildered look. "I needed to get the truth out before that cow Rita Skeeter turned my patient into a raving murderer."

"What happened to him?" She asked warily, if he was here and Kreacher hadn't killed him, it must mean that the elf and wards of the Black home had accepted him.

"Harry has been in therapy ever since the death of the Dark Lord, and last night we were attacked at my treatment facility by Death Eaters …" Hideki started his explanation as calmly as possible.

Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously as she cut off further explanation by leveling her wand into his face again, "And how did they find you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Harry used some form of hearing device and heard how they found us, as far as the details, we didn't have time to chat about it before the spells started flying; I have my ideas though." Ginny motioned for him to continue with her wand. "I would guess someone from the Ministry, as they were the ones that assigned him to me, so they knew of his whereabouts and of his weakened state. As far as whom, well it was an advanced scouting team of two, a younger looking wizard and a witch named Alecto as I wrote in the article." Saito also registered the change in her posture at the mention of the witch, "I believe she taunted Harry with some rather … unflattering things about her brother and you, as well as another."

Ginny's gaze fell immediately to the floor in humiliation. She had guarded that from Harry knowing how devastated he would be if he knew what was happening at Hogwarts, especially to Lavender, while he was on Dumbledore's mission. When Dean heard of Neville's secret entrance to the Come and Go room, it was a blessed relief to have a familiar comfort as he relayed information. It was the way they all coped last year. Her tears sprung to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She relaxed her grip on her wand and let her arm fall back to her side.

"Ginevra?" Saito's hand softly slipped on to her shoulder in a friendly squeeze and she raised her eyes to his own, "his love for you may have caused those wounds", pointing to the tears in Harry's back and Ginny flinched at his admission of both Harry's feelings and the damage they caused him, "but it also saved our lives." He quickly placed on the nightstand a picture of Stevens crushed under the doorway and a broken Alecto with a curved sword protruding from her throat. "He fought like a demon, Ms. Weasley, _you_ gave him that strength. Do not underestimate your hold on him, and never shame him like you did at the funeral again. Two weeks ago, it took everything I had to keep him of this world." Saito's voice trailed off in a whisper. "He needed to know that you still loved him, still saw the good in him, and you gave voice to everything that he feared the worst."

Her eyes told him what he needed to know, and he relaxed his demeanor slightly. Ginevra was a tempermental seventeen year old at the funeral of her brother and said things she didn't mean, and said the things she meant in a way that she regretted. But it also proved how vulnerable Harry was to what happened to her, and it showed the wisdom of why he refused to see her all of last year.

Regaining his focus, Hideki continued on, "He is extremely weak. No one else must know he is here, I do not know who we can trust."

Ginny nodded her head in agreement, but then her eyes snapped open, "Dammit, George sent a message to our friends that he heard from Harry, it won't take long for them to realize where he is and even if not, this is Harry's meeting place for all of us in times of crisis."

Saito sighed, "Then it seems he and I don't have much time here, I have a safe house of my own and will have to floo there with him, he can't apparate in his condition. He can't stay here, he is as much a danger to himself as he is to others."

Ginny protested, "Look at him doctor, he is no shape to travel. You just said …"

"I know, Ginevra, I care about him too, it's strange how quickly he can make it happen." Saito flashed her a quick smile before looking seriously at her, "I know it seems harsh and unfair when he is right here, now, but we are suppressing his magic to prevent him from lashing out. He must be moved to a safer, hidden location. He needs his magic unbound to regain consciousness and heal properly; he cannot do it here with the Ministry watching for him or signs of his magic. I'll give you a few minutes and then I am afraid we have to move." He gave a pointed look at the witch as he left the room, hoping against the odds, that her presence could stir Harry.

She nodded numbly and sat down on the edge of the bed, fresh bandages in one hand and with her free hand moved Harry so she could look at him properly. She absently dabbed the sweat from his face with the clean cloths and gently placed a slender hand on his bruised chest over his heart. She exhaled the breath she unknowingly held on to when she felt his heart beat was still faint but steady. She gazed over him, memorizing every feature of this wizard who she loved. Ginny laid her head in the crook of his undamaged shoulder and lay down beside Harry curling her small frame around him. Harry's breathing slowed and he relaxed into her flowery scent. This was how she imagined her life with him, waking up next to him, starting a new life together. _Dean kept me from falling to pieces last year, but surviving and living the life I hoped and dreamed about are two totally different things._

Ginny was struggling to cope with everything that was going on around her, it seemed so surreal. Harry was here with her, and yet so beaten and broken she had no idea what to do. It was clear to her that she still loved him and clear, according to his healer, that he still loved her. It seemed like it wasn't meant to be, _again_. She could try to convince the doctor, if he knew how much Harry meant to her then perhaps he would keep Harry here a bit longer. The DA members were implicitly trusted maybe they could help as well. But as she looked on at his prone body, Ginny felt the truth of the doctor's words before her mind had even processed it. He needed to be free to heal, and that meant he would be abandoning her again. _No, not abandon. Harry would never willingly leave me. Fate was taking him from me again._ Ginny's eyes were burning with tears at how unfair their lives seemed to be. She didn't know how long she lay next to him, but when she heard the door creak open she knew it was time to go. She sat up gingerly to not wake him and her body mourned the loss of his warmth and comfort.

"Bye Harry, please come back to me." She whispered and gently gave him a feathery light kiss on his lips. As soon as her lips grazed his, she felt something warm and soothing flow into her, but soon her body was flushing as it responded to his lips. The soothing feeling was soon overwhelmed by an urgent need to have more of him, to taste him. She crushed her body and lips against him desperate to have him feel her, all of her. Her breathing was ragged, her hands, her skin needed to touch more of his bare skin and the sensations were beginning to pool deep in her core. She teased her hands down his fevered chest and drew her slender fingers down to the edge of his boxers when suddenly it all ceased. Her eyes fluttered open and noticed that his healer had pulled her away and was supporting her as she stood trembling, weak in the knees with arousal. Harry's body glowed faintly and from his slightly opened lips a light golden mist emerged. Ginny blushed when she saw that Harry's body responded in a like manner.

"Kreacher, quickly" urged Saito, calling into the air. The house elf appeared silently and with a trembling hand plunged it into the fine mist. Grimacing slightly, Kreacher then placed his hands over Harry's chest and Ginny watched as some of the bruising slowly faded away. "I told you to remove all of it", Hideki growled at the elf to which Kreacher did not respond. Ginny's face must have betrayed her complete confusion.

"Ginevra, that was but a small fraction of what Harry can _barely_ control." He offered her a smile, "Channel it as love" then as his face darkened he pointed to the photos on the nightstand, "Or fury."

"As for you, it's love, definitely love" Saito snorted indignantly when he noticed Harry's unfortunate condition, "I'll let him know how …err… _happy_ he was to see you" as he covered Harry conspicuously with a few extra blankets. What started as a slight smirk, exploded as Hideki laughed long and hard at Ginny's paling face cradled in her hands as she sat heavily down onto the corner of the bed.

Hideki's kind face appeared in front of her brown eyes and he tried to ease Ginny's fears, "Even under magical suppression and with Kreacher's help, Harry is unstable. I hope now you realize why we must go; I am honor bound to him and will do everything in my power to return him here, to his home and … to you." Ginny gave the doctor a relieved smile of bittersweet gratitude. "Always remember Ginevra, it is love he gave to you, even at his most vulnerable."

Ginny left the bedroom slowly and with a lingering look, back at Harry being pulled up still unconscious, pushed on to find George downstairs in the living room. "George, we need to keep the DA away from here, tell Kreacher to lock down the floo, no visitors at least until Harry leaves. The Galleons will draw them here, and Harry has to leave before then for his own safety." Ginny's voice allowed no argument, and if she had come to that conclusion then there were no other options.

* * *

Ginny showed herself around Grimmauld Place later on that afternoon, after Kreacher prepared a light lunch and left her to her thoughts. She had wandered through the Black's House in a daze after Harry and his healer left, absently touching furniture trying to memorize everything about Harry's home. There would be more friend and DA meetings here, but it seemed that Harry would be absent from them for quite some time. She opened a door at the end of the hallway and stood a bit crestfallen when taking in Harry's godson's room.

It was a mirror of the Gryffindor dormitory, but filled with things that always brought Harry and the elder Marauders joy. Miniature brooms, books on pranking, charmed snitches, and a picture book about metamorph abilities. Pictures of Remus and Nymphadora filled the room, including a candid picture of the couple here at Grimmauld Place. Harry's pictures were inconspicuous, with the only one being of him and Remus during the third year Defense class. _He still is guilty about their deaths_. Ginny heart fell when she realized that Harry wouldn't be here for Teddy and while the circumstances were different, Teddy would be abandoned by his godfather like Sirius did with him. That guilt would tear Harry to pieces and while she would have to wait to see him again, Ginny swore that the Weasleys and she in particular, would be there for Teddy; he deserved the truth of his parents and godfather, of their greatness. She hoped it would not be too presumptuous to put her favorite photo of her and Harry as a second picture there in Teddy's room.

Ginny found her way unconsciously back to Harry's room. Mercifully, Kreacher had cleaned it up and turned down the bed, leaving that same picture of her and Harry at Fleur's wedding on the nightstand. Perhaps Harry's empathy and nobility were rubbing off on the elf; it was impossible not to notice the changes to Kreacher, he was taller, looked younger, and seemed more confident. _Harry has been a godsend to that elf. Of course, he was, he was Harry Potter._ Ginny snorted knowingly; Harry really was a remarkable wizard. She picked up the photo and sat heavily down on the bed. She was mesmerized how happy and normal he looked, it was such a rare luxury for him. _This is the life he deserves, carefree, surrounded by love and friends and ... me._ She slid down into the soft bed, pulled up the down comforter and with arms wrapped around the photo fell asleep remembering how right it felt just a few hours earlier to be right there with him.

Kreacher had finished locking down the floo and busied himself with laundering the bloody sheets and towels from his Master's visit. His master's healer was right, Harry's magic and transformation was changing him in some unknown elemental way. It almost felt like he was returning to something long forgotten; his elf magic seemed different but not unfamiliar. His personality was changing with Master Harry as well; gone was the simpering and worrying and in its place nobility and vigor. He felt the slight trace of Master Harry's magic settle in his bedroom and grinned to himself. _Mistress Weasley would make an excellent companion to his Master if he were to return._ A sudden inspiration claimed the elf and gathering a camera, took two pictures of Ginny, peacefully sleeping while cradling his Master's photo. _There will be no better incentive for my Lord to return when his time came._

**A/N: I actually really enjoy writing a new fate for Kreacher. He is my unofficial barometer for Harry's health and wellbeing. **


	8. Chapter 8 - Birthday Wishes

Chapter 7 – Of Light and Dark

Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.

**Summary: Harry's exile was explained to Ginny by his healer, Dr. Hideki Saito. Drawing raw magic, the Fade, during his battle with the Death Eaters poisoned him much like his father, and Kreacher was able to use it to manage his most dire wounds. Ginny began to work through some of her feelings in regards to Harry.**

**A/N: I am hoping this chapter pushes the story to 10000 views. I had no idea, perhaps a slim hope, that the story would gain traction like it has. I appreciate all the compliments and constructive criticism. Please keep it up! **

It was a colder winter day in Australia which found Ron and Hermione huddled together at a coffee shop contemplating their next move. Hermione, the smartest witch of her age, had modified her parents' memories to include a desire to stay in Sydney and enjoy the Opera. Tactically speaking, it was brilliant; they would stake out at a place and watch as theater goers would amble past during shows that Hermione's parents would enjoy, while the actively searched during the day time. It made evenings a bit easier because it involved them recapping what the day brought, and it allowed them time for reflection of both the mission and their budding relationship. It was perhaps a bit more passive than Ron would have liked, but it also afforded him time to really talk to her and be reminded of how attractive she was. Ron was blessed with less empathy and guilt, and more self-assurance than Harry, and so questioning why Hermione found him interesting was easier to accept. Well once he got past his jealousy; he knew it was a silly problem, Hermione had chosen him to be with despite their constant quarreling.

His epiphany when at Grimmauld Place was a double edged sword in that respect; he _was _maturing, being more considerate of others, Hermione in particular, but he also knew that Harry had inroads to her heart that were untouchable._ Harry never abandoned her in a death defying quest, even when it was his death to be defied, I mean honestly. That time they shared while on the run still bothers me, some for my own cowardice, but also because they became so close, more so than even before. _

Ron's misunderstood obsession with food came in handy many times when mired in his thoughts such as these. An extra bite of biscuit, an extra serving of bangers would often allow him to slip out of uncomfortable situations or gauge a response with the added time. It was a perfect stalling technique because no one expected him to be so devious. So it was no surprise when Hermione asked him how he felt the trip was going so far, Ron's mouth went into overdrive.

Two handful of chips and a hefty swig of soda later, Ron ventured, "It's been the best to be here with you, Hermione, I only wish we could have found your parents already, I know how hard it has been for you to do this with only me for support." He gave a tentative, self deprecating smile when her face went slack for just a moment, and she muttered blushingly about a teaspoon before replying, "Thank you Ron, I … I've really enjoyed it too" as she cautiously reached out to hold his hand.

His suave comment was stifled by the swift heating of his jeans. _Merlin's beard,_ _she just touched your hand, no need to get all hot and bothered. _The heating quickly cooled and embarrassingly he reached in to his pocket and deliberately pulled out his DA galleon, explicitly showing Hermione what the devil was going on in his pants before reading it. _No need to have her think I am that over the moon for her._ He slid it across the table to Hermione as he leapt towards the counter and flipped quickly through all the wizarding newspapers. His fingers froze when he saw the front page of the Prophet. Throwing a Galleon at the store owner, he walked in a daze back to his girlfriend and carefully placed it in front of her before pulling his chair beside her, pulling her close. Hermione burrowed into his warmth for comfort as he read the short article aloud over her quiet tears. The Galleon warmed again and they left, newspaper in hand, to find the first floo available; they needed to call the Burrow; someone had heard from Harry.

* * *

George took the call late in the evening; he had been waiting for the last of the DA to floo call which meant Ron and Hermione, seeing as how they were travelling and half a world away. George was exhausted still, but he owed it to Ginny and Harry to take these calls himself. He was the one that got too excited and jeopardized Harry's health by having to move him so quickly after arriving. Ginny had understood his excitement and forgave him immediately admitting she would have done the same thing. But he knew deep down it hurt his sister tremendously to lose Harry so soon after she got there.

He limited the conversation with his brother and Hermione to only the positive news, scarce as it was, they were tracking down her parents and he wouldn't risk them returning before they found Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Also he felt a submerged happy tenor to both their voices that he didn't want to crush with such an overwhelming update about the severity of Harry's wounds. George knew that the two of them left Britain to bring some good news to Hermione, but he would be a lousy older brother if he didn't also notice the looks little Ron had been giving to the bushy haired witch. He assured them that Harry was getting the best care possible and was able to see Ginny and make nice, throwing in a little joke at how thrilled Harry was when Ginny arrived. The relief was audible from them both, that Ginny had been able to really talk to him and that Harry seemed to be normal again made George uneasy about his lying, but he would address it later when they had more time. After the call, George couldn't even make it back to the Cauldron; the experiments would wait until tomorrow. He collapsed into his bed at the Burrow and was asleep immediately.

Molly checked in her children's rooms late at night, it was a habit that started soon after they returned from Hogwarts. She needed proof that they were still there, that someone hadn't taken them away. She was well aware that they were Order members like her and Arthur, but they were still just children. She lingered at George's room, watching her son twitch in his sleep; her motherly instincts knew something was different about him and it wasn't just that Fred was gone. He had an almost manic zeal about their joke shop and while she was grateful that he wasn't consumed by Fred's death, she wanted him to stopping running about and come to terms with it.

It also scared her that he was always mumbling in his sleep, making wand movements or absently tinkering with unseen inventions when dreaming, and when awake he was at the joke shop or depositing fresh ideas into the Pensieve. Arthur was no help in the matter because he thought George was coping in his own way. And much like her husband, they threw themselves into work. The Weasley matriarch also knew she was coping poorly, her initial response was to secure her family, but now with George at the shop, Ron and Hermione out in Australia, poor Harry had vanished, it left her with only Ginny there at the Burrow for her to dote and expend her grief on.

She smiled with some fondness as she opened the door to her daughter and Hermione's room seeing Ginny asleep. She hadn't seen Dean in over a week, and Molly assumed that they were over as a couple. The fact that her daughter was cradling the snitch that Harry gave her was one of many clues. When she spoke of him to his godson Teddy, her eyes lit up with pride and understandable sadness, but her love for him seemed renewed somehow, like she had found tangible proof of it and carried it with her always. She bore that love to Teddy, extolling the virtues of Remus and Nymphadora, and excusing Harry's absence by telling him he needed help to continue on from the war. Molly's motherly instincts were torn between her daughter's happiness now, and the reality that Harry was gone, and that absence would be devastating to Ginny over time. Wonderful memories and photos were great as support, but it couldn't sustain a relationship and Molly feared that her only daughter was chasing the impossible dream, one that she helped create.

Finished with her rounds, Molly padded her way back to her bed and silently slipped back under the covers. Arthur was waiting, and as he pulled her close sleepily consoled her and reminded her that everything would be alright in time.

* * *

Ginny sat with Luna at the edge of the Burrow's property by the small lake taking in the shallow British summer sun. They sat in comfortable silence as their toned legs lightly splashed around in the clear water; Ginny knew the question that Luna was dying to ask and was willing to wait her out. Finally, in true Luna fashion, "The Dabberblimps told me why you weren't here yesterday; they said you needed to see Harry Potter. Then our coins said Harry was heard from, did you send it?"

Ginny shook her head slightly in disbelief at her friend's creatures, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Luna's quiet laugh tinkled into the air, "Perhaps not, but I bet it would be a good story. And you still haven't answered my question."

Her crimson hair bobbed in agreement, and Luna's head cocked slightly to the side. "You sent the message, what did Harry say, did he use owl, floo call, that Muggle telephone?"

"I didn't send the script Luna. I didn't _hear_ from him. I _saw_ him." Luna's usually aloof façade crumbled instantly as she gasped and turned to fully face her best friend. "What did he say, was he still angry about …" Luna's interrogation stopped suddenly when Ginny's face flared as red as her hair. "You DIDN'T?" Luna's face was a mixture of surprise and shocked amusement, "Did he say anything, or was he too … _occupied_?" Her smirk was a mile wide and Ginny couldn't stand to burst her bubble, but she owed Luna the truth.

"He was hurt, worse than any time at school." Luna's smile died on her lips as the mirth fled quickly from the dreamy blonde. The girls both nodded grimly to each other, being _that_ hurt was really saying something considering Harry. "He was delirious the whole time and didn't say anything meaningful before they had to leave Grimmauld Place." She left out the part about Alecto, knowing it was just too raw for the conversation at hand. They both hated the witch. _Merlin, this is going to hurt._ "And I kissed him." _There I said it._

"You kissed him? I thought you said he was delirious?" Luna's disbelief cratered her brow in a huge crease until she saw Ginny's flush and felt the heat radiating from her body. "You slag!" Luna yelled, playfully smacking Ginny's leg. "Kissing a comatose man, even if he is as fanciable as Harry Potter, well, wow."

"Well, he seemed to enjoy it. A lot." Ginny said defensively crossing her arms, and with no small amount of pride, but as soon as she said it, she knew she was in trouble. The grin that was painted on her friend's face was impossibly wide and promised discomfort. _Oh shit, me and my big mouth._ Ginny could have punched herself in the face with how careless she was and what she admitted to.

"Enjoyed it you say? A lot you say?" Luna's voice sweetly drawled. _Oh this is going to be fun._ She measured her hands out some distance apart and if they were ganging up on someone else, Ginny would have gladly led the teasing, but this ... this was going to be mortifying. "A baby centaur?" Ginny felt the heat bursting from her cheeks as she shook her head no.

"A thestral?" Luna asked surprisingly, widening her hands a bit more. Ginny shook her head again, the heat on her face causing beads of sweat to magically appear, slowly rolling down the nape of her neck and wetting her hair. She bowed her head in submission, hoping that Luna would drop her humiliating interrogation. But the Ravenclaw would not be deterred, this was information that would be legendary at Hogwarts next year when they were seventh years.

"A hippogriff?" Luna asked in only a half mocking whisper. Ginny's slight cough and quick nod was the only cue the blonde witch needed. She looked down at her hands quite some distance apart and managed an awed, "I see…" before exploding into nervous laughter which Ginny followed, if only to expel the fierce burning from her face and neck.

"And you? How much did you _enjoy_ it?" Luna wouldn't relent until she had all the details. Ginny's sheepish silly grin told Luna everything. "You slag!"

"I know, I know, but …" Ginny's face screwed up into one of remembering with great concentration which Luna deciphered quickly wasn't amorous in nature, "his Healer said our reaction was due to his magic changing, something about the Fade and ancient magics. That's partially why I wanted to talk to you, to see if your dad had heard of anything like this before? Your father is … good with these kinds of _different_ questions. And, yes, partially because I wanted to talk about Harry" she admitted quietly with a smile. Luna felt thrilled for her best friend, even if seeing Harry was fleeting. But a small shadow clouded her happiness.

"How did Dean take it?" Luna would not begrudge her best friend the love of her life and the question was definitely sobering, but she had become fond of Dean and didn't want to see him get hurt.

"Poorly, but it's because I used him. I wanted someone to be there for me, to be comforted. I think he is okay with it on some level because I think he needed me to feel loved and supported too." Ginny replied with brutal honesty. She toed the water nervously, she knew Luna and Dean were friends and hated to be the kind of person to use another just to make her feel better.

Luna just patted her knee and lay down on the bank. She let out a soft whisper, "I know, Ginny. It's ok, we all were just trying to find a way to get by. To cope."

It was one thing Ginny regretted greatly now with hindsight, but it was merely survival instinct at the time. One day she hoped they could forgive each other, but this was the second time that Ginny had chosen Harry over Dean and his forgiveness would be much longer in coming.

As it was, Ginny didn't know if Harry would survive or ever be able to come back, but to come to terms with her feelings and _act_ on them felt right even if it did kind of make her a slag.

* * *

Kreacher had just finished cleaning out the dining area after the impromptu meeting of Master Harry's friends to discuss his birthday presents. Despite the elf's best efforts at vague explanation, his friends insisted on purchasing gifts for his Master to personally deliver it to him, or to his vault if he couldn't get away from his therapies. Ginny and George looked at each other sharing a bittersweet smile, there would be no birthday miracle, no surprise meeting. Harry would barely be recovering from his grievous wounds a month from now, but neither had the heart to damper the enthusiasm that was so scarce these days.

The harmless arguing eventually turned towards Neville as the "Boy who shared a birthday". It was a funny moniker that reminded everyone of both Harry and Neville's bravery in the war. Neville Longbottom had been tempered by the same circumstances as Harry's, perhaps with not as hot a fire, but he had experienced more loss and suffering than the others. Ever since Harry's disappearance, he had been subdued for the most part because he was emotionally drained. Neville had been coordinating the American healers' visits to his parents and after a few weeks the treatments were finally paying dividends.

His parents, Frank and Alice, had moments of lucidity and two days ago, his mother had looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Neville?" as if waking from a bad dream. It was personal agony, but moments like that spurred the Longbottom scion on with a fervor that belied his quiet personality. Those times made Neville feel more indebted to Harry Potter than ever. Despite the fact that he was the Chosen One, it was his compassion and thoughtfulness that made him remarkable. So when the conversation turned to Harry's birthday gift, that same fervor returned. "I think we should probably wait until we hear from Hermione and Ron to go in on something big, but it has to be great. I owe him that much."

Emboldened by the last few days being at Grimmauld Place, Ginny spoke up on Harry's behalf, "He wouldn't want anyone to feel like they 'owed' him anything." She gave Neville a sweet smile, "His gifts were just that, gifts, given because he had the means to help. Besides with the Black and Potter names, there isn't anything we can get him that he can't afford himself. Try and give him something personal to you, nothing fancy, with Harry it really is the thought that counts." Ginny gave Kreacher a sideways glance as he touched Regulus' locket in acknowledgement. The elf had shown the witch the picture of her asleep with the wedding photo cradled in her arms, and offered it to her as Harry's birthday gift. She looked so content and genuinely happy in the frame that she gave Kreacher a bruising hug and whispered, "Thank you Kreacher, he'll love it".

"Not all of us have that kind of _sway_ with Harry" Luna said in an overly sweet voice snapping Ginny out of her memory; causing Ginny to blush pink in her cheeks. _She is never going to forget that._ "I do agree with Ginny about something small and meaningful from each of us. Though I still think we should go to the Alley for a large gift from all of us. They are having a grand reopening of some of the shops in a few weeks, there will be lots of people and lots of Aurors there for protection."

"Anonymity and safety, that sounds like a pretty good idea" Neville agreed. Ever since the end of the War, Neville had become a bit of a celebrity for his role at Hogwarts and much like Harry, he shied away from the attention. "Besides it will give Ron and Hermione a few more weeks to find her parents and maybe they can join us at the Leaky to start." He held up the DA Galleon, "I'll let you guys know exactly when."

* * *

The Burning Lady was a dark pub located in the middle of Knockturn Alley. Anonymity was the only rule and no one asked questions of the transactions that took place, nor of any of the drinks imbibed. Almost anything was available for a price, but secrecy was always the top seller. That, and that alone brought the two men together to a corner booth in the smoky tavern. A light shimmering in the air spoke of privacy wards and a notice-me-not charm and after a quick show of forearms, the two settled in to a low conversation.

"It appears that Mr. Potter isn't as damaged as we were led to believe." The burlier man ventured, pointing at the old edition of the Daily Prophet he placed on the table.

"Yes, Amycus will be most … irate, but no matter. This proves that my contacts within the Ministry were successful. We have the trace and when he moves again, we will have him. Our agents are already searching for him. I bet with that confrontation with Alecto, _now_ he is as damaged as we were led to believe."

"But the damn cloak…" The man blurted impatiently, throwing up his hands.

"Dolohov, be still". Rookwood held up a palm then beckoned him closer and whispered, "The trace is tied to the _wand_. When he uses it, we'll know, cloak be damned. And we'll have something to draw him out in a few weeks, if not then it will put even more pressure on the new Ministry. Either we locate Potter or the Ministry deals with the aftermath. But remember, we are too few to risk battles we can't win. No undue risk. This is just about applying pressure, we are on a knife's edge here, Antonin, _fifteen_ minutes in the Alley, no more. I want only minimal risk; our friends in the DMLE gave us twenty minutes, at most. Do not get _carried_ away and do not screw this up." Rookwood enunciated each word and Dolohov flinched a little at the rebuke, nodding quickly.

"Oh, and make sure we keep an eye on Matheson, I think he is losing faith in some of his Unspeakables. He must not know of how compromised they are. Remember the Codex is our only real leverage and even that won't stay his anger for long." Dolohov shuddered and grunted in agreement, placed ten galleons on the table and the two Death Eaters quietly eased back into the night.

* * *

Kreacher approached Ginny rather nervously as she was heading to the floo at Grimmauld Place. It had been a week since Master Harry's short stay and Mistress Ginny had come almost every day since to help finish Teddy's room or bring suitable toys for his toy chest. Her presence was a calming balm for Kreacher, who missed his Master and the sense of purpose he gained from him every day. Master Harry was nothing if not always in need of medical assistance or special projects, but even work at the Cauldron wasn't ultimately satisfying with him gone. Watching the witch, he made a quick decision for the betterment of his Master. As merely the elf for the House of Black, he wasn't sure if he was overstepping his authority, but would deal with the consequences if the old binding magic disagreed. The black cast iron skillet seemed to be daring him from the kitchen, to which Kreacher silently snarled at it.

"Mistress Ginny" he said in a faltering voice, "Should Kreacher ready Master's bed for your stay or will are you going back to the Burrow?" When no compulsion struck him, he gave a tentative smile and exhaled softly. Ginny turned from the green fires slowly with a look of shock and embarrassment.

"In the Lord's room? Without Harry being here?" she seemed genuinely confused by the implications of the offer, but Kreacher had gambled that the faint touch of his magic still within her and her obvious feelings towards Master Harry were enough for both the wards and his familial oath. It had been quite some time since his master had departed and his magical signature was gone, apart from the fading glimmer within Mistress Ginny. He merely nodded and tried to not look disappointed when she refused. "Kreacher, I told my family I would go home tonight, but … I will take you up on that offer soon enough_._"_ I know I can still feel Harry in there. Oh, but what will Mom say?_ She gave him a soft smile and looked up the stairs to his room. She blinked hard, and turned resolutely to the floo, spoke, "the Burrow" almost regretfully.

After she had left, Kreacher settled down in his room on his reading chair. Harry had decided that he would no longer be sleeping in the cupboard almost immediately upon inheriting him, muttering darkly about cupboards, the Dursleys, and proper sleeping quarters. The elf was reading about his family history as servants of the Black family, trying to glean any information of how he was changing so rapidly. He never would have asked Mistress Ginny to stay before, even though he knew it would make his Master happy; it was not the place of a normal house elf.

Of course, _subtle_ changes in personality were expected when transferred to a new master, but there was almost nothing written about house elves or their personalities during the arcane times. There was almost nothing about the arcane time, period, in house elf or wizarding lore.

The house elf sighed and stretched his tired legs. The mystery of his rejuvenation, personality changes, and increasingly powerful magic would wait for another day but even as he turned in for the night, Kreacher could not calm his mind. There was a restlessness that had been steadily growing, over the last few moons, in his mind. It swirled like the silent calm before a storm or the whispering shore before high tide. Kreacher tried relaxing and sipping his tea, when a sharp jolt of pain forced the cup from his hands and spilled it onto the duvet. The pain was blinding; radiating from his head, and then he heard the sickening crunch of bones shifting and tissue moving. As quickly as it came, the pain slowly began to recede, and with gasping breaths Kreacher felt about his face and immediately ran to the bathroom mirror in terror.

He was in shock at the house elf looking back at him. His head had lost the ghastly caricature common to house elves, and now faced an image of a somewhat human face, with only slightly larger than normal pointed ears and correctly set but golden eyes. _I look like a fairy. But fairy folk are …_ Kreacher ran his hands over his new visage, confused at how human he looked. He lost the emaciated appearance and while not muscular by any means, looked reasonably healthy. Gone were the spindly limbs, hallmarks of house elves, even his nose had shrunk to accommodate his new face. The only thing that could have changed him this much would have been something that happened with his Master, something _drastic_.

He stormed back into his room, and immediately summoned a book of Faerie folk hoping for a different explanation. As he sat down and feverishly flipped through the book, a brilliant light flashed in his eyes drove him down onto the bed causing him to instinctively close them against the pain and a vision came unbidden to him. _Delicate trees ringed with white flowers, stalks of century old bamboo, and a giant fiery volcano shrouded in clouds in the distance, the bright sun reflecting off a small pond... _

His eyes snapped open and a relieved smile graced his new features. _Drastic, indeed._ _Master Harry was awake._


	9. Chapter 9 - Japanese Tea Time

Chapter 8 – Japanese Tea Time

Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.

**Summary: I decided to break the summary up into the various plot lines that I promise will mesh soon.**

**Ron and Hermione's relationship is advancing. George lied to them, saying Harry was fine to keep them in Australia looking for her parents. **

**Ginny told Luna about her meeting with Harry and enlisted her father in finding out more about the Arcane times.**

**We learned a bit more about Neville and Harry's gift to him, and the DA decided to visit Diagon Alley during the grand reopening.**

**The Death Eaters have a trace on Harry's wand and are waiting for him to use it to track him.**

**Kreacher went through a major transformation due to Harry's emergence from coma and increasing power.**

_kohai/sempai_ - a complex relationship similar to mentee/mentor.

Darkness, the totality of nothingness, in here time had no meaning. There were no events, nothing to break the monotony of silent blackness. There was something that stirred some time ago, nothing more than a faint stirring, a flash of warmth and completeness. Capturing that moment and reliving it was the one thing that kept madness in the overwhelming darkness away. After that brief impression, he could locate other areas of sensation in the abyss. However, one came unbidden to him, pain. It was a somewhat welcome visitor from the endless purgatory of nothing and it rolled over in waves, caressing him with its intense sensation, for which he was grateful. As it became his constant companion, however, it became less novel and more unbearable, the agonizing waves swallowing more and more of his mind. As the agony climaxed, the darkness began to recede and light stormed into his vision in unrelenting rays and spots.

He groaned and shoved his palms into his eyes and set his other senses to bear on his surroundings. He was lying down, and it was obviously light outside, with the faint smell of bamboo and flowers. The floor he was prone on seemed woven and hard but not entirely uncomfortable. Peeking through his hands, he noticed a shoji screen and a room that was unmistakably Japanese. He sat up slowly and took note of his body. He seemed relatively healthy which was in stark contrast to what he remembered of his escape from the clinic. With atrophied muscles, he lurched from the futon, put on a track suit, and mustered a weak, "Hello?" Receiving no response, he moved from the room towards the staircase leading down. "Hello?"

Dr. Saito's face appeared at the bottom and beckoned him down, "Slowly Mr. Potter, you've had quite a … rough go of it. We'll be waiting for you down here, unless you need assistance?"

_We?_ Harry gave a half-hearted wave as he gingerly stepped down the stairs, the agonizing prickle of nerves reawakening following him. He collapsed into a simple dining chair surrounding a low table and groaned at the spread before him. Eight potions … no eggs, no potatoes, no bacon, just these eight potions. Harry raised an eyebrow waiting for an explanation, hoping for the real breakfast to arrive.

"These five are nutritive, these two are blood replenishing, and this is a mild pepper up potion." Hideki explained as he grouped the vials. "Maybe a bit of tea afterwards to help start the day." His relaxed smile calmed a bit of Harry's nerves. _Honestly, tea sounds amazing right now._ He eyed the cup Hideki put down with a relieved sigh.

"I am sure you have many, many questions, and I will try and answer them as best I can, but first…" his healer gestured to the potions apologetically. Harry grimaced, he wanted answers which meant a slew of awful tasting drinks, hopefully, the tea chaser would clear that up. He managed not to retch as threw back the vials two at a time, if being at Hogwarts with Madame Pomfrey taught him nothing, it was how to handle his potions. He grabbed the tea cup and drank greedily, ignoring the burning heat.

Hideki looked a bit chagrined at the offended look on his patient's face. "It's not breakfast tea or Earl Grey, it's green tea. Hmm, perhaps, a bit of lemon, sugar, maybe some honey?"

"Or flavor?" Harry sarcastically joked. The tea tasted like dirt, dirt infused with more dirt. It was bitter and earthy. It wasn't soothing like English tea, more like revitalizing in a forced kind of way. "Kenji! Mr. Potter has dishonored your tea." Hideki barely kept the mocking tone from his voice and gave Harry a quick wink and waited for his son. Kenji didn't disappoint, racing around the corner with an outraged face.

He was in his mid-twenties, with an angular face seemingly cut from marble. Jet black, shoulder length hair framed his tanned face; it was obvious that whatever treatments Harry would be getting here would continue to include outside physical training. He was shorter than Harry by a few inches, but exuded confidence and an easy, almost feral grace that seemingly increased his already impressive physical presence. But what Harry found most fascinating was Kenji's eyes; they were so dark as to be almost black with flecks of gold in his irises. This was a man that commanded respect. Harry unconsciously tried to tame his hair, and sit straighter in his seat.

Noticing his father's silent laughter, he grunted and sat down heavily across from Harry with an annoyed sigh. He sipped his own green tea and spat it out ingloriously right in Harry's face. The intimidating presence and command fled instantly, and when he looked at his father doubled over in laughter, swore long and hard in Japanese, and marched back to presumably the kitchen. After a few moments, a white missile thumped Harry's chest; it was a towel.

For his face. The one with the tea and spittle on it.

Hideki smiled inwardly, he knew his son was always intimidating. Kenji's own legacy sharpened his mind and body in a way that cowed others, and to set them on equal footing more or less right away could only make this go smoother. Harry heard grumbling from the kitchen area and Hideki nodded quickly to the front door. His healer had a maniacal twinkle in his eye, one that the Marauders often displayed, and to avoid Kenji's fury, they slipped quietly outside.

"I slipped grass clippings into his tea this morning", Hideki said laughing, "Kenji, my son, can be rather … intimidating on first meeting". Harry noticed now that they were outside, that the Saito's home rested in the center of what seemed to a temple, in the shadow of a mountain. As he took in the amazing view, his Healer led him down a short path to a reflecting pool with dozens of brilliant koi lazily swimming. "Ask away Harry, I am sure your mind is full of questions". And it was true, Harry sat down in the grass as he tried to find the most important ones to ask.

* * *

"Where are we, and why am I here?" Harry needed to know his immediate surroundings; any interesting information would come later. "Ahh Harry, we are at Mt. Hiei, and you are here to continue your therapies. Just because we had a minor setback does not mean you can give up." Hideki seemed awfully calm for someone who looked panicked just a few moments …

"How long was I unconscious?" Harry asked concerned. He blew out a sigh of relief as his healer held up one finger. "Just a day, seems your healing skills are right up there with Madame Pomfrey's." Any more compliments died on Harry's lips as he saw Hideki shake his head slowly, "A week Mr. Potter and even that was surprising given the nature of your wounds." _A whole week? _"I was out for a whole week, just lying there?" Harry's annoyance came mostly because Hideki did nothing but horrifically kill Alecto after he had wanted to try and spare her.

"Well I almost didn't make it last time from that _minor setback_, _somebody_ did nothing and watched." Harry's annoyance wasn't even minutely disguised, he was angry at his healer. Hideki had the decency to be a bit shamefaced, but he made his way down to Harry's spot and sat down beside him. "It is a long story Mr. Potter, are you sure you would like to hear it?"

"Does it involve my father?" Harry was anxious to continue the talk they started in the States.

"Eventually, perhaps, but you must hear the whole story to see if you can be trusted with what we have built here. I did not lie when I said my views are controversial at best and traitorous at worst. I would prefer not to have the sword of Damocles held above me for trusting the wrong person." Harry frowned slightly at the healer implication; he _did_ just save Saito's life. If that wasn't enough to earn his trust, then this secret must hold some real power. "I will listen" was Harry's only response.

"I apologize for my inability to help, but you must understand that we are near Squibs, we can barely do transfigurations, such as the sword from her wand, and the fundamentals of mind magic. I believe you call it Occulomency and Legilimency."

"Then how on Earth were you assigned as a healer to me, of all people?" Harry blurted out, and quickly realized how cutting a remark it was, despite his intentions. He had questioned the very efforts of a man who had helped him stay sane after Ginny unloaded on him, and through his teachings survived the Death Eaters' ambush. He sounded ungrateful at best, a raging asshole or like a Malfoy at worst.

"I am sorry Dr. Saito, truly your therapies have helped and I shouldn't have spoken so out of turn." Dr. Saito regarded him carefully and was silent for minutes before continuing on.

"As I said before at the clinic, wizards and witches have not always used wands as their channelers. In a more ancient time, these wizards channeled magic through themselves exclusively, this ability to tap directly into the Fade labeled them as an Arcane magi." Hideki Saito waited patiently to see if his young charge could ask the right question.

"Like my father? That night Voldemort attacked us?" Harry was glad that his healer's earlier chastising had focused him so clearly on that memory. "Well where are the Arcane wizards now, and why do we have wands?" Harry held up his beloved holly and phoenix feather wand and gave it a nervous twirl around his fingers. "And what does that have to do with being a near Squib?"

"A question then, Mr. Potter, if there was a certain type of magic that was powerful and accessible to only a chosen few, would it take the majority of witches and wizards long to realize there was a ceiling to how far they could advance magically and politically? And when the majority took control from the chosen few, what better way to bind that magic than with a wand?" Before Harry had a chance to think of all that entailed, Hideki answered his third question.

"It is a familiar story for those of us here in Japan. _We_ are the descendants of the Arcane magi here. As our political influence increased, so did our enemies, eventually we were forced into secrecy, and when Buddhism arrived, we conveniently intertwined the ideas of spiritual enlightenment to explain our gifts to others. With its rising popularity we began to reemerge as part of the martial portion of the Buddhist order. It was to afford us a chance at real political capital, to use to reintroduce slowly the return of the magi."

Hideki's bitterness was not lost on Harry, as he spoke so passionately about the experience, it was almost as if his healer was there for all of these events in person. His story telling of history was animated and enthralling, something that Professor Binns never even _accidentally_ managed. It also felt pertinent, and so Harry would not rush his healer's story because he felt some of it was in preparation for something vitally important to _him_. Harry prompted Hideki with open hands for more.

"We were the _sohei _or warrior monks, as we are often portrayed in movies" Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't argue with that ridiculous stereotype, "and we continued our training, but even as we grew in stature, we were oblivious to the dangers around us. Believing the religious neutrality would ensure our immediate safety, we were … unprepared for the brutality that occurred on this very mountain." Harry glanced around trying to imagine what possibly could have shaken the same man who killed a witch by piercing her throat with a sword.

"They burned and razed this whole complex to the ground, women, children, it made no difference, they all burned. Of the thirty survivors, each had their magic bound to their bloodline. For eternity. We paid dearly for our carelessness, but channeled our considerable fortunes into those thirty remaining to continue our rigorous training and hide them from those that would extinguish our line permanently. Our efforts, even without magic, quickly bore fruit in the finest swordsman the world has ever known."

"Miyamoto Musashi" Harry whispered reverently. The man's teachings and his five books on the elements had already saved his life once. The texts were powerful, but if it were possible that these _sohei_ would train him in the same fashion as the great swordsman, then he would be that much closer to returning home _or_ forcing his way back.

"My son, Kenji, is actually my ward, I am not _sohei_" Hideki stated flatly and with a heavy heart. "I am the gatekeeper and historian of the Legion here in Japan; it is my job to seek out those that may help us reclaim our rightful place, which included your father. Kenji is the most able direct line descendant of Miyamoto Musashi and the _sohei_. It is his judgment you must seek if you want to learn more than the basics of what I have and will continue to teach you."

Harry had been trying to focus on what Hideki was saying, but when he heard about his father, his mind froze and tried to understand what his father could've done to help them. "Dr. Saito, you mentioned my father, and how he was meant to help you, did he arrange some kind of deal for your training?" _And do I carry the burden of that treaty?_

Hideki Saito watched as the teenager's anxiety noticeably increased and the last question indicated why. Yes, the treaty still could bind Harry Potter to his father's oath, but truthfully, he could never force Harry to do it, even if it went against the Legion's needs. Harry had suffered greatly in his life, watching his parents and friends die, being a war hero at seventeen, but most importantly, Hideki liked and respected the Potter scion. He was not lying when he confessed to Ginny that he had become quiet fond and protective of Harry.

"But why have we never heard of this ethnic cleansing? I mean that's barbaric, even from the 1500s." Harry's naïve question almost made Hideki laugh, but also saddened him deeply. It reminded him that his patient was still a boy in a manner of speaking.

"Because the victor gains the spoils of war, and perhaps more importantly tells the stories to justify their actions. It happens everywhere, Muggles and Wizarding worlds both, it happens in Britain and it happens to concern you and your father."

Harry listened hard to Hideki's tone. _It was matter of fact but tinged with something else, trepidation, concern … testing his resolve. This information is dangerous, but at least he is giving me a choice in the matter._ "Could it help me go home, this information?"

"It could, but it could also put your life in more jeopardy." Harry growled at Hideki's rejoinder. It was always dangerous, nothing was easy for him; hell just his breathing must be fraught with peril too. But he wanted to be as prepared as possible, at least then he could make sound decisions. So he nodded to his healer.

"Britain's arcane period began to decline shortly after William of Normandy invaded. The influx of new ideas and political influence began to push back against the established magi. Those with money and power in the majority used the proliferation of wands and their sheer numbers to drive the arcane mages underground."

"But if the arcane mages were so powerful then why didn't they just fight?" Harry interrupted. If this were the case, then the two sides were at war, they should've fought for their freedom. "Who had this much influence to push them out?"

"Powerful as they were, they couldn't kill all of the newly found wizards who were now armed with wands. They retreated, but were hunted. As far as the group, it is the same group that controls Britain now, with the same power and money, only now it is hundreds of generations older." Hideki said with an obvious shrug of his shoulders.

"Pureblood houses. Of a Most Ancient and Noble House" Harry spat the moniker out of his mouth with as much venom as he could manage.

"Careful young Potter" Hideki emphasized his surname carefully. "You are the lord of two of those very same Houses. It is an incestuous thing, wizarding politics; it is not as cut and dry as you would wish. But you are in a unique position. After the disappearance of most of the Arcane magi from the British Isles, there was a documented return of one group." Saito paused for a moment, hoping that Harry would provide an answer. When none came, he continued on with a slight clue, "The return of the some of the most powerful wizards who had crafted items of ancient power …."

"The Peverells" Harry said, shocked as the pieces began to take shape as to why he was here.

* * *

The Cauldron was already whirring in motion when George arrived after closing the shop. Kreacher's help actually extended even beyond his Master's lab; the inventor found the elf's ideas for even the mundane pranks and jokes for the regular customers to be quite good. As the new line of Wheezes were taking shape, blessedly about a month beginning of school term, George knew this year, the store would be a smash. _Fred would be proud of all the joy and Galleons, don't forget Galleons, our store has made. And these wicked inventions for Harry, Fred would have loved them too._ Ruminating on his brother's reaction to the store now, George pricked his thumb and swiped the door. Assaulted by the smells and sounds of the research lab, he saw his faithful researcher hunched over an impossibly dark cloak. _Has Kreacher gotten taller?_ As the twin was about to ask Kreacher if he was wearing platform shoes again, the elf turned to him and smiled.

"FUCK! Kreacher, what, what happened?" George barely even enunciated that much due to his shock at Harry's elf. His golden eyes bore into George's and he smiled even wider, "Changes compliments of my Master, Master Harry is awake and his magic is growing."

"Umm, looks good. Sorry I was just a bit startled to see the changes. And Harry is up? How can you tell?" George ventured closer to Kreacher and while giving him the once over declared, "Definitely an improvement, you just look like a small person now, well with golden eyes, but still Harry's been good for you." The house elf bowed deeply at the compliment, "I knew Master Harry was awake when the transformation occurred, and yes, I am surprised at his early recovery as well" He smiled prideful of his Master's surprising resilience and gestured to the cloak.

"Would Master Weasley like to start the second infusion or begin the runic enchantments?" There was very little friction between the two, they listened to each other's interpretations of Harry's requests and always came to a consensus before moving forward, it made for slower work, but items of incredible quality, always trying to give Harry just a bit more to help him along. "I am still working on the precise placement of the runes, so I think maybe the infusion, you?"

Kreacher nodded in assent, "The runes are the most important, so we should try and make those absolutely right, the second infusion it is." As he moved to collect the crystal cauldron and the liquid matrix of Everlasting Elixir and thestral blood, George began carefully removing two satchets of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Once Kreacher had the liquid mixture humming along in the cauldron, George emptied the satchets into the stirring liquid. Both he and Kreacher held their breaths, many previous attempts of this step included fierce blackouts of the lab which in an experimental warded facility proved quiet … risky with exploding and other deadly reagents with a fumbling arms' reach. Much of George's hair had been regrown many times over the course of this project. So they now had a tactile pathway built into the floor on the off chance that the overwhelming darkness would return. As the powder slowly seeped into the liquid, they exhaled. This infusion plus one other and Harry's Shade Cloak, first of its kind, would be completed.

* * *

"You are a Peverell, a direct male line descendent, the _only_ one. Your ancestor, Ignotus, created his one cloak, to hide his children; it hides everything, even magical signatures. But he couldn't choose which of his children would inherit his gift and as he watched them murdered, he sacrificed his greatest magical gift, the Fade and Void by binding the power from his line. He extinguished the last Arcane line on the Isles to save them."

Harry was confused, he knew he was a Peverell. _But how had my father and I broken the binding?_ "Hideki, how …"

"Desperation, Mr. Potter and maybe if your father had more time could have controlled it better. And you, well, the Dark Lord's Horcrux has afforded you a chance to dislodge it completely by fracturing your core essence. It will require me and my son's help he can show you how to focus your body, while I focus your mind." He nodded beyond his shoulder and Harry noticed Kenji with a satisfied smirk approaching. Hideki nodded to his son.

"You owe me a new teapot Father, and you" pointing dead into Harry's face, "will give me everything you have and I will make you worthy of the Legion."

Remembering Hideki's warning, Harry would not be intimidated. "If I give you everything _I_ have, you will be dead on the floor." He stood a few inches taller than the now grinning man, sporting an equally challenging smirk.

"We'll see, Harry Potter, tomorrow you learn to be more."

* * *

Harry assumed Kenji's tomorrow meant morning, but in the still darkness of predawn, he woke up staring into those strange black eyes.

"Come." Kenji vanished out the door, silent as the wind.

Harry felt like a braying donkey in comparison, nothing quiet or subtle about fumbling in the dark and falling down a flight of stairs.

Kenji's not so subtle sigh was the first clue of how hard a teacher he would prove to be.

It wasn't so much a ten mile jog but a life or death sprint for ten miles. Kenji's breathing was unlabored but Harry collapsed under the onslaught of deep oxygen debt and the physical assault that accompanied the run in the darkness. He jerked Harry up and pushed him into a sitting position and forced himself into Harry's mind.

"Just because you are tired is no excuse. People will attack you or your loved ones when you are at your weakest." Kenji snarled at Harry. "Your weakest must be stronger than their best!" He was practically screaming at the struggling wizard, pushing him. Harry was writhing under both the scathing words and painful intrusion into his mind, but slowly pushed the _sohei_ from his weary mind as he protected his most treasured memories the best he could.

"Good, that was acceptable." Kenji said, a faint tone of pride entering his voice. "Now up, we have much training to do today."

Harry had run and practiced more focusing exercises before sun up then he had ever done in a whole day with his healer. When the sun arrived, Kenji and Harry were facing each other armed with wooden swords. "They are made with bamboo so I won't hurt you … too much." Kenji gave him a wolfish smile as Harry snorted indignantly.

"It can't hurt worse than that tea you gave me."

"Says the man who almost died from a training run." Kenji said with an even tone.

The two glared, smirking at each other, testing the other's mettle and finally Harry relented, "How long am I going to need?" Harry's confidence for a quick return to his home wasn't the only thing that took a real beating that morning.

Kenji looked thoughtfully at him, "Honestly, it could take years, but from what my father says, you have desperation _and_ a beautiful redhead as incentive, so perhaps a little less." He chuckled at Harry's blushing face but sobered quickly, "I have been training my whole life so you can't compare yourself to me though; you could never match a true _sohei _no matter how long you trained."

"Yeah, yeah." Harry adopted the same stance as Kenji. He was going to show his trainer that his father taught him something of value. Harry's confidence slowly returned as he remembered how overconfidence always lead to Draco's failures, this Kenji would be no different. He would regret underestimating him. He saw a flash of movement and six agonizing seconds later, darkness closed in on him.

* * *

By mid July, Harry had mastered the ten mile sprint and felt quite proud of himself, only to learn that it would become a warming run for the morning's sparring. Kenji was prophetic, Harry would never match his martial arts skill, nor would he ever be stronger or faster. Ever since the burning of the temple at Mount Hiei, the _sohei_ had perfected the art of fighting and killing. Harry still couldn't believe that the monks had researched that for centuries, but here was the end product in the form of Kenji Saito. He had finally begun to score soft touches on Kenji, but Harry was the one that always required numbing potions at a minimum after a duel.

When dueling one day, Kenji abruptly stopped and glared at Harry. "What the hell are you doing?" he snarled. The real anger on his trainer's face surprised Harry, most of his anger was frustration or fake to push him harder. But today, this was genuine anger, like Harry had offended him somehow.

"Umm, aren't we practicing?" Harry said bewildered.

"You had an opening, and you tried to _disarm_ me. The people after you aren't trying to _disarm _you." Kenji's anger grew with each admonishment. "THEY. WILL. KILL. YOU." He emphasized each word with a strike against Harry, culminating in a meaty slash to the neck that dropped the wizard.

Harry spat out a tooth and some blood as he lay flat on the grass, groaning through the growing knot in his throat. Kenji's snarling face eclipsed the bright morning sunshine, "This is _real_ Potter, not a duel, no fancy rules, and no protective wards. We don't fight to score points, we fight to kill." He pushed his sword into Harry's neck again. "Do you think Death Eaters care about your compassion? They will use it against you at every opportunity! Do you understand?" He yelled his last question slowly into Harry's face, forcing the words into his mind. For good measure, he gave Harry's ribs a heavy kick. Harry curled up and muttered something to Kenji under his breath.

Kenji leaned over and strained to hear the wheezing wizard. He caught Harry's smirk, just as his foot lashed out and cracked the _sohei's_ knee. As Kenji grunted and dropped forward to his knees, he had enough strength to direct Harry's bamboo sword over his temple and flush into the crown of his head. Kenji spun wildly and collapsed on his back a few feet from Harry's now prone form, his head bleeding from a sizable cut.

"You can kiss my compassionate ass!" called out Harry from the ground. Kenji merely responded with a swift stomp to his groin before he started to slowly laugh. Many moments later, Harry finally recovering from his swollen bits, chuckled and then joined in fully laughing.

"There is hope for you yet, young _kohai_."

* * *

Mercifully, his healer's therapies were of a more focusing technique. As Hideki always told him, "Balance is the key, physical and mental, light and dark. Always remember, the Fade is not good or bad, it is raw magic, to channel it you must always be balanced." Harry knew that while the rage fueled destruction of Alecto did win their freedom, it cost him dearly. He winced in pain as the memory trickled down his back across the silvery gashes, the cost of his imbalance.

Mainly it was awareness training, what his magic felt like in his mind, how to begin to shape it there in his conscious, before releasing it. It was so different than producing a spell verbally and with movement. His first real wandless attempts were colorful displays of faint magic, but Hideki was pleased. His healer told him that channeling the Fade was going to be a learned skill and that it could be used to augment his wand magic. For now it was to prevent more injuries from exposure to too much raw magic. Something in his healer's eyes told him there was more he could say to him about his magic, but Harry had questioned Hideki's motivations far too often with no real or worse wrong reasoning, so he was willing to let him hold his secrets for now.

As Harry collapsed onto his futon after the end of his first week, Kenji and his father shared a knowing glance, went downstairs, and sat down at the kitchen table sipping their green tea. Hideki began his assessment, "His emotional balance is lacking, and I don't foresee him fixing that until we address his brutal abuse at the hands of his relatives. I was hoping you could help him. His wand magic is some of the most innovative and powerful I have seen for his age, and his access to the Fade is better than his father, much more like a Peverell. He could be the one we seek."

The glint in his son's jet black eyes flashed dangerously. "I share the same thoughts, he is not ready right now, but he learns quickly, much like a young child." Hideki noticed something in his son, a mixture of pride and exasperation, "Today, he had an opening and could have really pushed me but he didn't. He needs a foundation to build on but could become something we need."

"Agreed, we must keep him safe until he is ready, which means we have to find out how the British Ministry is tracking him. It's something on his person, his wand, or given his involvement with the Unspeakables, I wouldn't put a blood trace past them either. The first two are easy to test, but they must happen away from here. I will not risk our home. We can build your trust in each other and give him a reason to keep fighting, but we must push him harder." Hideki Saito said with finality. He did not fail to notice that his son was grinning savagely. _My kohai was going to find out a lot about himself and quickly._

**A/N: Thanks for the views and reviews. Harry's finally getting a few answers and while this was mainly a Harry chapter, the others will have their say in the next few more, plus the showdown in Diagon Alley is coming up!**


	10. Chapter 10 - Resolution

Chapter 9 – Resolution

Standard Disclaimer: All story characters and plot devices belong to JK Rowling.

**Summary: Harry awoke in Japan at the temple of Mt. Hiei, home of the Japanese ancient wizards. After having their magic bound, their descendants devoted their lives to becoming martial artists. Both his healer and his son belong to the order and continue Harry's training. He learned that it was the Pureblood families that exterminated the arcane lines and that as an unknown Peverell he is the last remaining Magi. Kenji, Hideki's son and the most powerful of the order, has begun to train Harry's body and develop a hard edge to him.**

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews and comments, keep them coming. I know a lot of you are wondering about Ginny and Harry. Be patient is all I ask, I haven't let you all down yet! **

Hermione eyed the small leather shoe with a healthy bit of disdain. She knew the trouble Kingsley had gone through to secure a direct International portkey back to Britain now that they had found her parents, but she hated portkey travel. She gave a small smile to Ron as they counted down the time prior to activation. Ron had been great before and especially during the meeting and subsequent confrontation with her parents. Him being great was part of her confusion; it seemed he had a maturation that went unnoticed by everyone and in so doing began to fill the void left by Harry.

She felt a bit ashamed that Harry hadn't crossed her mind since the Daily Prophet article and floo call, and of course the one time that Ron brought him up with her parents. She hardly ever brought up Harry with Ron in any meaningful context fearing that her confused feelings for him would be impossible to ignore. The old Ron would have immediately been threatened, but this new Ron seemed more at ease with himself and accepting of whatever her feelings may be. For that she was grateful and hoped that they could heal each other. Hermione wistfully remembered how much Ron had changed in just the past few weeks here in Australia.

Ron was sitting in the sitting area of the Granger's Australian home gritting his teeth so hard his jaw was aching. He knew her parents would be angry and Hermione's fears about them feeling betrayed were realized shortly after their memories recovered. Knowing they would be mad and hearing their wrath from inside the kitchen were two different situations altogether. Didn't they realize that she protected them from probable torture and death by sending them away? Of course, it would have been ideal if she had told them it was going to happen, but in the end it worked and they were safe. The fact that he considered Hermione his girlfriend also influenced how he saw the situation, but she was the smartest witch of her age and if this was the best solution then so be it. Now that Ron considered more than his own selfish needs, the striking similarities between what Hermione and Harry did seemed all too evident.

_FUCK, I am such a damn hypocrite. My best mate did the same thing and I railed against him, now my girlfriend does it and I am defending her._ Ginny couldn't see it then and maybe ever, but now he _could_ see how much anguish it must have caused Harry to push his sister away from him. Ron would store that apology away for later, if he ever saw his best mate again. He angrily stood up and marched towards the kitchen door. Something that Harry always showed him was, it was never too late to do the right thing, and that his bravery would see Ron through practically any situation, including this one.

Hermione was in tears as her parents continued to berate her with reasons for their anger, when she heard the creak of the kitchen door as it opened. Ron stood quietly in the corner; flashed her a grimacing smile and cleared his throat softly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger?" The verbal tirade didn't stop at his timid request, if anything the vitriol increased.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger?" Ron had to count to ten before he exploded in anger when he went ignored again.

"MR. and MRS. GRANGER!" Ron was beyond furious and yelling did feel appropriate; only afterwards did he realize that these were the same parents he would need to meet for Sunday dinners and such if things went well with Hermione. The nervous shudder at how things turned out would hit him as they were waiting for that same portkey the next day. However his girlfriend's helpless face spurred Ron on, storming to the middle of the kitchen and drawing himself up to his impressive height.

"I will talk and you will listen! Hermione is your daughter, your only child, and she did what she thought was right. We were at war, do you understand that? A war you couldn't possibly fathom. People died, MY BROTHER DIED! So never think that you knew best how to the handle the situation. She kept you safe! She knew you would be targets and so she sent you away. Have you noticed that Harry isn't here, do you know why?" Ron's anger and frustration at losing Harry seeped into every word he was lashing Hermione's parents with.

"DO. YOU. KNOW. WHY? Harry isn't here because he may never recover from the war. It cost him everything." Ron's voice softened when he looked at Hermione with a look of pure love and sympathy. "Your daughter lost the only true friend that she had since she started at Hogwarts; she sent you away so she wouldn't lose you too."

Ron's anger burned itself out, and he was just left with a gaping hole where his best mate should have been. Voicing the awful truth about Harry made it too real, too quickly. Before the tears would force themselves out, he slowly left the home and sat on the stairs leading to the front porch. In the silence that followed in the kitchen, Hermione got up and followed her boyfriend out into the cold.

She found him, head in his hands, on the stairs, looking straight out into the bleak Australian winter. Tears streamed down his face. "Ron …" she said quietly as she sat down beside him and forced her way into his gaze. She softly slipped her hand into his and drew his hand down from his face. She could see the hurt and adoration in his eyes. She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, a far cry from the passionate kiss after they won the war.

This wasn't a cathartic moment; it was an attempt to show her caring, and what she hoped could turn to love. She sighed contentedly into Ron's lips as it was soft and warm and very, very nice. _But_ _it isn't Harry._ She barely kept her head from snapping away from Ron's as that realization raced through her mind. She held it together by reminding herself that it wouldn't be Harry, but Ron _could_ become that, and most importantly that wasn't the type of kiss she wanted right now. Those three logical reasons quieted Hermione's mind for the moment as she also regarded the bleak winter landscape.

* * *

The Burrow was full of excitement when they received the floo call from Ron. They had found Hermione's parents and while it was not a smooth recovery; her parents' memories had returned and decided to return to Britain. However, because of the arguments between them, Mr. and Mrs. Granger would spend their time at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur with Hermione and Ron staying at the Burrow. The tension was too high and emotions were much too raw for now.

Molly was happy, her youngest son was returning and while it would not make up for the loss of Fred, it was a cause for celebration. Something positive to cling to amidst all the turmoil and sadness was a powerful gift. Ron's return was obviously important for Ginny because despite the fact they argued, she loved him and he was a reminder of Harry. Hermione's return was more questionable for Ginny. They were best friends tied together for their common love and understanding of Harry.

Normally she would have thought nothing of it, but Hermione's verbal lashing of her at the reading of the letters coupled with the absolutely furious look Harry gave his best friend when excoriating them both at Fred's funeral made her think something was different between them. So it became a cause of friction as well, Hermione had the closeness to Harry that Ginny craved; the bushy haired witch was never the fan girl or obsessed with his scar or fame. Hermione and Harry shared seven years of genuine caring and honesty, something that Ginny had just managed over two years ago.

Whether or not Hermione ever had real feelings for Harry, she wasn't sure, but Ginny did know that now her own mind was made up. She would fight for him, even if it meant clearing the air with her best friend and figuring out where she stood and what her feelings for her brother and Harry were. It was ironic because it was Hermione that told her to be herself and get Harry to notice her for who she was, which led in part to this mess right now.

As her brother and Hermione entered the wards for the Burrow, the Weasleys were shocked to notice them holding hands, even if a bit nervously. Ginny couldn't help but smile both at her brother's boldness, which would occupy their mother's considerable nosiness, and at the burgeoning relationship for Hermione. It would not preclude the bloodletting of emotions for the two of them, but hopefully it would make it easier. Ginny's smile matched her brother's when she gave him a quick thumbs up.

Ginny wasn't the only Weasley who's guilt and emotions were assuaged by the blossoming relationship; George was relieved they found her parents and hoped that would justify and mitigate the large amount of apologizing he would have to do for his lies a few weeks earlier.

Ginny waved over at her older brother, she needed Hermione's undivided attention so whatever amends he wanted to make would have to wait. After the hugs, tears, general teasing and wolf whistles regarding Ron and Hermione's relationship, everyone settled into the kitchen for butter beers and snacks. The questions were fast and furious about Australia and where her parents were. Ron mercifully answered most of those as well as explained the situation of her parents. It wasn't lost on anyone how fiercely protective and caring Ron was about her.

All of the Weasleys caught each other's eyes at some point during the friendly interrogation when Ron would stand up in defense of his girlfriend. To get some real answers, Ginny would need Hermione on her own, so as they began to disperse after the initial congratulations, she motioned over to her brother's girlfriend to take a walk outside.

* * *

As the stepped away from the Burrow and walked towards the lake, Ginny was measuring the steps before she would unleash her questions.

Obviously Hermione could tell something was wrong, they weren't best friends despite recent events for nothing. As they traveled out of earshot of the Burrow, she turned to the red-haired witch and asked, "Ginny, what is it, what's the matter?"

_What a loaded question_. Ginny thought about her most pressing question. "What changed about you and Harry after the battle?" _There that encompassed pretty much everything, why Hermione was such a raging bitch to me recently, why Harry disappeared that night, and whether my fears about the two of them were real._

Hermione sighed, all the euphoria from being with Ron and returning to the Weasley's evaporated. She braced herself for the anger from Ginny as she wondered how brutally honest she should be. _Quick, like ripping off a bandage. Ginny's tough, she'll be able to take it. _

"Nothing happened when on the run, but when he came back and saw you and Dean … he was crushed. He needed to know he was forgiven and worth all of the death around him. We … we kissed, briefly. He was desperate to feel _anything_ from _anyone_. It didn't mean anything." _To him. _Hermione finished quickly so Ginny would have to hear the whole explanation before exploding.

Ginny's face was rigid with tightly wound fury and her narrow eyes would have pierced Hermione on the spot. She knew that Harry coped the same way she did, but to imagine Hermione's lips on Harry's clenched her stomach in a painful way. If she hadn't felt Harry's raw emotional love infuse her body, Ginny would have hexed or even cursed her best friend. It didn't absolve her anger, but it made her less jealous than she thought it would. Maybe this was karmic retribution for using Dean, she saw the similarities vaguely and knew people had to cope the only way they could. _I should be mad at Harry too, but there is no doubting his feelings, so maybe it is exactly the way she says it is … I'll need to snog him properly next time if only to get that image of them out of my mind._

Her Weasley temper was simmering but not exploding, a fact that amazed Hermione. She tentatively ventured a question to her best friend, "Something is different with you too. What happened when you met with Harry? What was he like?" Ginny saw the desperation in Hermione's face and couldn't lie to her. She was laid bare also when Harry came back for the funeral.

"Harry was delirious and never regained consciousness and had suffered some really bad injuries from that battle at the clinic. His healer was still with him, but we touched and he gave me something of himself. Part of his magic, his love, call it whatever, but I trust in it. I understand why he left and took you and Ron with him, and while it still bothers me I won't let it stop me from how I feel about him."

Hermione's shoulders slumped when hearing of Harry's condition, it was in stark contrast to the lie George told and caught her off guard. The guilt of happily stashed away with Ron in Australia while her best friend was fighting for his life almost made her throw up on the spot. She thought that everyone had made up and that things would be as normal as Harry's condition would allow, but to hear that he could be dying … it terrified her and she wondered if she would ever see him again.

Ginny understood that fear; it was the same fear that stole away her breath when she first saw Harry prone at Grimmauld Place. Maybe it was the last vestiges of Harry's love or nobility within her, but she found herself pulling Hermione into a consoling embrace. They both missed Harry terribly, for whatever reasons didn't matter at that moment. As they both blinked back tears, Ginny finally asked the other question she needed to know, "You and Ron, really?"

* * *

The Burning Lady was in a flurry of activity over the last few weeks. Both Rookwood and Dolohov were consistent customers fleshing out their plans for the grand reopening of Diagon Alley. The bar owner had noticed their increasing confidence, as well as seeing that their concerns over Matheson abate. The reasons for that became obvious as the rather attractive regal brunette confidently strode to the Death Eater's table. She had the high bearing of a landed pureblood family as well as the imperious gaze of someone of importance. Miss Parker, as she was known to her friends and colleagues, was indeed a powerful woman as the deputy head of the Unspeakables division.

"Augustus, it has been a long time" she purred at seeing the former coworker from the Ministry.

"Hello, Parker, time it seems has been very good to you, as well as your station, deputy head is it?" Augustus replied smoothly. "From what I hear, time isn't the only thing you have been good at to receive such accolades so early in your career." Rookwood's eyes held a mirthless laughter, as if sharing an inside joke.

"You would know exactly how good all of my qualifications are." The brunette witch would not be cowed nor ridiculed from her new station, and while Rookwood had initiated her in many different ways to the Unspeakables, she was no longer that new recruit. Her sexuality and fierce devotion to work _had_ moved her quickly through the ranks, but it was exactly that position that they both worked hard for her to attain that made this meeting so important.

"How is Matheson these days?" Rookwood tried to act nonchalant, but the mission in Diagon Alley was merely days away and Miss Parker was the best situated operative they had.

"Sleeping comfortably and blissfully unaware of the situation" she replied with a seductive smile. "The earlier commotion about a leak in the department was resolved; both of your newest recruits were named and unfortunately given to the Dementors. They hadn't taken the vow yet, so no one suspects anything." She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the loss of the pure blood offered to those unholy spectres.

"An unfortunate casualty, but unavoidable. Keep Matheson occupied, as I know you can" Augustus said with a knowing smirk. "We'll be in touch", Rookwood couldn't help himself as he trailed his fingertips across her collarbone as he left the table and glided past her.

Miss Parker shivered slightly but kept her focus on the table and the five galleons left behind. Rookwood would expect her to turn and show weakness, but she was a different woman than he remembered. She doctored the induction ceremony with his help to circumvent the Unspeakables' Vow and was free to be a rogue agent within the Department of Mysteries. She wasn't bound to him and his silly Death Eater ideals anymore. When with the Unspeakables, she had discovered a more important cause to maintain her pureblood status and standing, and it was that and only that, which bound her to Rookwood and his followers.

She was one of the Ancient and Sacred Twenty-Eight and accepted the responsibility to maintain the powers her ancestors had killed for. When she finally stood and strode from the Burning Lady, she grinned maliciously at how weak Rookwood still thought she was. _He has no idea who he is fucking with._ It was a sentiment that she found herself realizing again and again, but the resulting corpses would never have a chance to warn the others.

* * *

The cause for her concern was just waking on the other side of the world, cloaked in darkness, readying himself for the increased rigors of his predawn workouts. The past week or so under the new regimen had sharpened his senses considerably; most notably with his sense of magic. He now could detect faint traces of the Fade and wand bound magic. Puzzlingly, Harry felt and saw silvery strands surrounding Kenji but not his father; he filed it away to question later. To dwell on that during sparring was asking for a swift concussion or near loss of limb.

Since Harry earned his hard edge from Kenji in dueling, the battles increased in ferocity with him barely able to keep up. Kenji's attacks came faster and harsher now that he was striking with all his might. Harry knew either a fist or, Merlin forbid, a kick would end his training for the day so most of that week was spent defending and dodging. Slowly but surely, Harry was landing glancing blows and finally eight full days after catching Kenji by surprise, he clipped the _sohei_ with a sharp elbow before succumbing to a straight side kick pulverizing two of his ribs. His triumphant roar coincided with his cry of pain as he blacked out.

Humanely, Hideki's training while equally exhausting was not nearly as punishing. Harry's focus on his magic within allowed those first simple wandless sparks to evolve into small balls of flame or frost. Hideki was still adamant in only using wandless magic, which confused Harry because of his shown inability to control the Fade in significant amounts. He _was_ able to see the Fade more often in himself and elsewhere; it was everywhere and seeing it was disorienting, as if his brain couldn't process both the real world and the raw magic that permeated it at the same time. His healer assured him that the integration process would happen quickly and it would be seamless.

As he awoke with a large groan; a thick wrap around his ribs laying on his familiar injury futon, he grinned at his _sempai _at the door, "I tagged you pretty good".

Kenji snorted, "So says the man with kindling for ribs". He did give Harry the satisfaction of turning his head to the right to show his swollen black and purple shiner under his eye. "You have managed very well, _kohai_, not many could do this to a true _sohei _attacking in earnest, especially in only a few weeks' time."

His healer heard the verbal sparring and smiled to himself; this was going much better than he thought possible. In time, they could become like true brothers. Hideki's head appeared at the doorway, "Well technically, he has been unconsciously supplementing his training with small amounts of raw magic. I suppose it's only fair …" He clapped his son hard on the shoulder with a nod towards Harry. Kenji seemed to think about the gesture for a moment and then nodded. He slowly untucked his compression shirt and revealed a savage looking bite mark over his heart. "The mark of a true _sohei_, a true warrior of the Arcane. The emperor may have taken our magic, but he could never take away our bond with the Fade."

"You are of the moon? Voluntarily?" Harry asked almost rhetorically. It certainly would explain a lot about his speed and power as well as the fair amount of raw magic swirling around him. Kenji nodded and answered Harry's next question, "We are not infectious; over generations we've maximized the benefits and minimized the obvious dangers, though not without a lot of suffering." Kenji's eyes flinched slightly when remembering the tales of those earliest attempts at voluntary lycanthropy.

Harry closed his eyes to try and absorb all of this new information. All of the coincidences became less random and more chosen, his relationship to the Fade, his introduction to a group who promoted this bond and meeting the healer that made it all possible. His eyes opened suspiciously to look at his healer and his son.

Hideki could have garnered more favor with the Peverell scion by explaining _exactly_ what happened that day they were at Grimmauld Place, but given what had to be done now, Harry needed all of his focus on survival and in placing the correct structure to facilitate his and the Legion's return. _If not that, then perhaps this…_

Hideki headed off the oncoming storm by telling Harry one of the things he wanted to hear. "When you heal fully we will discuss your father and the Legion. I know your birthday is a few days away, perhaps we can take a short break ..." He gave a knowing look to his son. "A trip to Britain then; it will give us the best chance to determine how the Ministry is tracking you. And besides, I would hate for you to miss your birthday." He finished with a smirk.

* * *

Ginny sat on her bed at the Burrow, Ron and Hermione were staying in his room, with the door wide open of course. Molly might have liked the pairing, but she was still pretty overbearing when it came to the rules of her house, and not for the first time, Ginny seriously considered moving to Grimmauld Place and taking up Kreacher's offer. She recalled the conversation with Hermione earlier and even surprised herself with how well she took her confession. Harry's healer had given her an important gift when it came to the raven haired teen.

_Harry loves me_, it was a simple statement but perhaps one of the most powerful she knew. It allowed no wiggle room, it just was. It gave purpose, resolve, comfort, she would hold on to that truth and draw strength from it. She absently held onto the snitch and was slightly ashamed at the abuse she heaped on it when first receiving it. She stared at it, trying to will her feelings to it and extract Harry's from within. She sighed and rolled it absent-mindedly in her palm as she habitually did when thinking about him. Something rough marred the usually smooth surface and puzzled, she looked closer at the golden sphere. She felt a seam in the snitch and examined it closer.

She popped open the seam and saw inside there was a small phial. Puzzled, she gingerly pulled the phial out and almost dropped it as it grew to the length of her hand, inside a silvery liquid rested quietly. Wary of dark magic, she peered at the liquid ready to call Bill or any of the other Order members. She knew this was from Harry, but she wanted some reassurance. She found it when she turned the phial over and saw a small golden script etched into the bottle.

Inscribed were four phrases.

_My patronus is a stag._

_You took Neville to the Yule ball._

_Your lips taste of sweet strawberries._

_And an ominous one; this is only a memory._

Suddenly, Harry's gift to George fell into place, and she quietly slid downstairs to the Pensieve to view Harry's memory. She considered asking Hermione and Ron to accompany her, but this was _her_ gift from him, and as such she would first see it alone. Dipping her face into the swirling silver amidst the clear water, she was understandably puzzled.

It was King's Cross Station and there was an odd sterile white platform that looked remarkably like 9 3/4. It was completed by a strange stark white train much like the Hogwarts' express. Everything was silent, but for a strangled whimpering that echoed in the stillness. Ginny couldn't determine where the sound was coming from, but shortly another sound emerged. It certainly sounded like Harry and Dumbledore, but that was impossible given that the Headmaster had died over a year ago. Unless … and when Dumbledore and Harry began discussing death and moving on, Ginny understood the magnitude of the scene in front of her.

_Harry died._ It was true, Voldemort had killed him and this is where he went. Her wizard's demeanor looked so beaten and tired that it hurt to look at him and he glanced with such longing at the train that Ginny knew that boarding it was his desire. She looked again at the train and saw that his parents, James and Lily, were onboard as well as the other Marauders. Fred and Nymphadora gave happy waves further back in the train car and Ginny saw Harry's face light up with happiness. Here in this place, Harry could have the family he always craved and deserved; he could be whole again. She saw the guilt spasm over his face as he struggled but finally, mechanically, started slowly walking to the train.

"Stop! Come back, we need you!" Ginny hoarse cries echoed in the station. "I need you." The last admission came out as a quiet whisper into the bleached scenery. She flushed deep red when she remembered that this was a memory, no cajoling or convincing would change the outcome; Harry _had_ come back, hadn't he? Her heart raced when she considered the possibility that whatever Harry was, wasn't him at all. She mentally forced that scenario out of her mind; what she felt from him was real, which meant her Harry was real. _What changed his mind?_

The train doors opened and a white cloaked usher appeared and beckoned Harry forwards. It was so eerie and still, the moments hung in the air. Ginny started to panic again as Harry neared the train, the scary realization that maybe Harry didn't come back at all roared in her mind ... Why was this something he had wanted her to see? She started pleading again with Harry to stay, to come back. Memory be damned, she would make him listen, but she saw his face and it looked hard with resolve to reunite with the family he should have had; the family love that all but Neville and Susan Bones had always taken for granted.

Harry stood before the figure in white at the entrance way to the train car, and took the small hand that was offered. Instead of pulling him on to the train, the figure slowly brought Harry's hand to the hood of the white cloak and helped him gently pull. It revealed a beautiful feminine face with alabaster skin and crimson hair...

"Ginny", Harry whispered and her name seemed to hang in the air for an eternity. He stared at the angelic figure like he would never see her or anything so beautiful again; desperately memorizing every line, freckle, and soft curve. His stare was so intense and desperate it made Ginny blush as she watched them. When he gently cradled her face in his hand, Ginny felt weak in her knees but couldn't turn away. His face slick with tears, he looked past the white cloaked figure to the train car and his face fell.

"I'm sorr..."

"Harry", said James in a fatherly and slightly admonishing tone, "We will always love you and we understand. It is just not our time, it is _your_ time." He finished with a pointed look to his son and the white clothed Ginny.

As Harry's gaze wandered to his mother, doubt crept in his eyes. Lily looked back at her son who had been through so much and even Ginny could see the motherly pride wash over her. She mouthed the words _save her_ as she gave James a knowing glance.

Harry returned his gaze back to his Ginny, drinking in all of her features once more and with his face hardening with resolve, declared in a steely voice "I will return" without turning his head in acknowledgement.

"Agreed" said a grandfatherly voice behind Ginny. She jumped a little at the voice and turned slowly and met the crescent moon glasses of one Albus Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled, "Love, it is always enough" he murmured.

Ginny inhaled sharply and steadied herself against the pensieve. Harry would have left, given in to see his parents, but returned ... because of her. Then why wouldn't he fight for her? Hermione's words at Grimmauld Place battered her mind, "You got Dean". Hermione was there with Harry that night and all those nights before, felt his devastation, his need to be wanted and tried to heal his broken spirit, but even she didn't know the depth of his loss or sacrifice. No one could.

_Harry went into exile thinking I didn't love him and I was his sole reason for returning_. His awful words at Fred's funeral crystallized in her mind; he returned from the afterlife hoping to find a happy ending, and it went wrong, _all wrong_. Ginny went back to her room after collecting the memory and sat heavily on her bed. _How can you make it right with someone who is in hiding and may never see again?_

Ginny sighed heavily at the impossible question; she wouldn't solve it tonight or in the near future. She had to get some sleep. They had a big day tomorrow, it was the grand reopening of Diagon Alley and she was going to take Teddy to see the parade. _He is going to love it_, she thought with a small smile as sleep came quickly.


	11. Chapter 11 - Return of the Chosen One

Chapter 10 – Return of the Chosen One

Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.

**Summary: Ron and Hermione found her parents and reconciled with them mainly due to Ron's help. Hermione realized that Ron would never be Harry, but he could be something just as good. Ginny and Hermione cleared the air, with Ginny learning about the kiss. Mrs. Parker, one of the Sacred 28, assured Rookwood their plans for Diagon Alley were clear. Harry learned that the _sohei _are indolent werewolves, infected to ensure their survival despite their loss of magic. He and Kenji were returning to Britain. Ginny realized that Harry returned from death to be with her.**

**A/N: Thanks for all the feedback, most of it is pretty encouraging. A lot of you are wondering whether Ginny should also have a special power or characteristic and I never gave it much thought, so any suggestions I would definitely entertain, so far as it doesn't ruin the rest of the story that is planned out. Gabrielle makes a small cameo in a few chapters so to her fans, just hold on a bit longer. **

Ginny woke up to a crisp mid-summer morning at the Burrow. She jumped out of bed she was so excited; today was Teddy's first parade. She ran through the mental checklist and first up was reviewing the household spells that would make it possible to care for Teddy. Once she was totally confident with her diaper cleaning and formula warming spells, she reviewed the parade route and which brand-new stores were opening. It was obvious the ice cream parlor replacing Florean Fortescue's would be the prime spot to watch all the festivities. She felt a real sense of loss because he was such a kind man and his store had so many memories for children.

Teddy would create none of those memories with his parents, but that thought only strengthened Ginny's resolve to provide what she could for him. Perhaps she was taking the unofficial godmother role a bit more seriously than she should have. _Maybe I am just hoping that this will be practice for when I do become his godmother._ Ginny snorted aloud, she wasn't a hopeless romantic anymore, war tended to make you a bit more pragmatic, but she felt that a happy ending with Harry was possible. She knew everyone else thought it was a pipe dream, which also was the reason for her early wake up and departure; it would kill her mood to see those pitying stares.

She wriggled her way into some jeans and a long shirt to combat the chilly morning and quickly made her way to the kitchen. Her eyes widened in surprise at seeing George already at the table eating and shuffling some papers. He was so immersed in whatever it was, he only noticed her when she plunked down beside him with her bowl of oatmeal.

"Shade Cloak?" Ginny asked puzzled. "Is that a new item for Auror help?"

George's eyes flashed dangerously and she dropped her questioning. George earned the right to keep his secrets, for a time at least.

"Why are you up so early, Ginny? Could it be to miss the morning rush for breakfast?" George was a bit miffed; he wanted solitude to work on the rune scheme that Kreacher suggested. "If you plan on going to the Alley for Harry's gift…" he shifted a large bag of Galleons to her. With a big smile, he added, "And if you are taking Teddy to the Alley…" he shifted four more Galleons to her. "I won't tell anyone if he manages to get a hold of some … chocolates or ice cream. Chocolate by the way." Ginny's eyebrows were knitted in confusion. "Harry's favorite flavor, Kreacher told me."

Ginny smiled and said patronizingly, "I know, I _did_ date him for a little bit of time. And it's _dark_ chocolate." George nodded with a smile that conceded defeat, "I'll be working at the store for the most part so if everyone wanted to meet back for lunch, I could take a break then."

"We'll meet up for lunch." Ginny was slowly getting excited, finally after almost three months, a happy event would grace Britain's wizarding world. _What better way to remember all the good things than spending it with a little baby seeing his first parade, and maybe a touch of chocolate ice cream?_

She arrived at Andromeda's house before mid-morning; she really wanted to stake out a great place at the ice cream parlor to watch. She was only half listening to Mrs. Tonks' warnings about Teddy's napping schedule, if he got ahold of some ice cream, he wouldn't be sleeping for quite some time. Besides she wanted him to stay up through the whole parade and hear about Harry from all of his friends when they went shopping.

As she heard Teddy stirring, she couldn't help but smile. This was Harry's godson and she made it her responsibility to take care of him; she hoped the symbolism would hold some truth in time. Her heart quickened when she saw the cute bundle presented to her; Teddy's eyes were a caramel brown but his hair was black. Black and untidy, Ginny blinked back tears, it was so easy to imagine Teddy as hers and Harry's. She knew she didn't want children right away, she had a Quidditch career to think of after all, but the awesome feeling of motherhood was hard to resist. Her joy was tempered knowing that the man she wanted as a father was broken both mentally and physically, but she wouldn't give in, at least not yet.

"Ginny, are you listening?" Andromeda slightly chastising tone echoed in her mind. She gave a sheepish grin and nodded quickly.

"Don't worry Mrs. Tonks, we'll have an army there, and my mom's a floo call away. She had seven of us, so I am sure she's seen it all, metamorph notwithstanding."

Andromeda nodded curtly, both Ginny and Harry were both awfully young to take up the mantle of even part time parents, but she saw how the crimson haired witch's eyes lit up seeing Teddy. To give them a bit of time together in such a safe location wouldn't hurt, and it would give her some time to relax and really grieve the loss of her daughter.

"Be careful with him Ginny, he's all I have left of my daughter." Ginny smiled bittersweet and softly replied, "I know Mrs. Tonks. He'll be safe; Harry would never forgive me if something happened."

* * *

Ginny arrived at Diagon Alley just before ten and set up her spot in the outside seating area of the ice cream parlor. It had a unfettered view of the street and as she heated up a bit of Teddy's formula with her wand, she began pointing out all the neat sights. As she fed him, she multitasked by broadcasting her position via DA Galleon to the others.

Luna responded immediately, saying she was with Hannah and Neville at the Leaky for breakfast; but afterwards they would meet at the parlor on the way to the joke shop. She burped Teddy and set him in his carrier for a quick nap. She wanted him alert and ready for when all the fun would start. She sat back letting the early sun bathe her face and let out a contented sigh. It was almost perfect.

She felt some roving eyes taking in her figure and it immediately triggered an uncomfortable memory of Hogwarts. Thankfully, she brought Harry's snitch with her and palmed it. It always brought a small sense of comfort to have something of Harry's that she could physically hold on to. As her breathing returned to normal, her eyes raked across the scenery; glaring out at the patrons, searching for the wandering eyes. She caught a fleeting glimpse of a black robe turning quickly and disappearing into the growing crowd. Before she had time to think on it, her least favorite reporter loudly interrupted the happy morning.

"Ginevra Weasley! I knew I would find some of the famous Hogwarts students here at Diagon Alley today. How are you doing?" Ginny snorted hard at being regarded as one of the 'famous Hogwarts students'. Rita Skeeter's annoyingly loud voice was causing Teddy to stir slightly in his carrier, and Ginny growled at the unfortunate spot she was in. She would have to suffer this bitch's questions and get her away from both of them before all of their plans could start. Ginny knew that mentioning Harry's name in any fashion would include extra questions, so she quickly palmed the snitch and turned sharply to the Daily Prophet reporter.

"I am doing as well as can be expected Rita." The youngest Weasley ground out between clenched teeth. "We are here to celebrate the hopeful return to normalcy, to begin to heal. Is that why _you_ are here today?"

"Absolutely, I am here on assignment to get some choice words from the heroes of the final battle at Hogwarts and maybe find one Mr. Potter and have another wonderful interview with him." She finished expectantly, looking at Ginny.

_So that was the angle, find the ex-girlfriend, find the hero_. Ginny winced at her assessment; she didn't know what she and Harry were, but in title at least, it had to be better than that. "I am not sure if you have read your own paper, Rita, but I read that Harry was in America receiving some experimental treatment to recover from the war. I know you didn't write the article, but perhaps you should read your colleagues' work."

"And how do you feel about that? Him just leaving you like that, with a child no less!" Rita's eyes lit up as her gossiping quill went into overdrive at tying all of these details together.

Ginny's eyes were murderous, and if she didn't have a sleeping child next to her, Rita would have experienced a verbal and spell laden lashing that would have sent her to St. Mungo's. She slowly pointed her wand right in between Rita's glasses, "This is Teddy Lupin, his parents were killed defending the wizarding world from Voldemort. It is an honor to take him out for a fun day, to celebrate what his parents protected." Ginny's voice was fiery, she could handle Rita's jabs and gossip, but she would not stand for Teddy, his parents, or Harry's name to be dragged through the mud.

Rita, took note of the wand in her face, and the young redhead's mood and quickly dropped the single mother angle of her gossiping. As far as Harry Potter was concerned, she and her readers demanded more. "And you and the Chosen One, what is the status of your relationship?"

Ginny's wand never wavered, in fact the tip grew dangerously closer to Rita's forehead. It took every fiber of her being to quell her Gryffindor instincts that told her to blast this nosy bitch, but she grated out a "no comment" and followed it with a "our relationship is a private matter for right now". Rita looked tremendously disappointed and as she was pressing in for the kill, she noticed the contingent of Aurors begin to line the streets in preparation for the parade. Rita smirked at the obvious sigh of relief that came from Harry's ex-girlfriend and made a mental note to return to get the full story later. She swept up her notes and quill, bidding Ginny a sweet goodbye earning her yet another deathly stare.

* * *

A pair of bright eyes roamed the street watching for any targets that were deemed important. He knew there was going to be trouble, there always was when planning for something like this. The wizard had coordinated events like this many times before, and always had the same sense of foreboding. He was proven correct each time, the Ministry, at Hogwarts. Shaking his head to clear it of those dark thoughts, he remembered he had to stay focused. His objective was across the street, engaged in what was obviously an irritating experience. He chuckled under his breath; Rita Skeeter could annoy and exasperate anyone.

The redheaded witch seemed fit to explode on the reporter. Usually this would be at the very least entertaining, but with her so wound up there was no telling what she would do or how she would react to the inevitable. He sent a message to his colleagues that Ginevra had been spotted and waited for confirmation on Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They were the most important people of the day and that's why his team was assigned to them. He felt a familiar tingle and learned that the two of the major heroes of the day were seen further down the Alley. They had eyes on all of them. With a heavy exhale of relief, he refocused his eyes on Ginevra Weasley, who had bundled up the baby she had brought and was facing the street directing Teddy's eyes to where the parade would be passing by.

He rolled down his sleeve, leveled his wand, whispering, "Bombarda."

* * *

Ron heard the dull thuds reverberating down the causeway and instinctively looked into the sky expecting the resulting splash of colors from George's newest creation. When a rush of hot air blew through his hair, Ron's instincts quickly took over. Scanning the distant shops, he saw faint, then billowing amounts of smoke rising in the air. He had barely enough time to usher a few people into the middle of the street when the storefronts on either side of him exploded. He covered Hermione with his body and pinned her while looking for anybody responsible. The aurors also looked stunned at the attack in broad daylight.

It took Ron screaming a few choice words including, "Hey you Ministry fucks, get your shit moving!" It was a testament to how scared Hermione was that she didn't correct his language until much later. As the aurors began to spread down the streets and alleyways, Ron stood slowly and pulled Hermione up with him. Hermione was practically yelling in Ron's ear so that he could hear her, "We need to get to George's, he and Harry paid some goblins to ward the structure. It should be safe, safer than here anyways."

Ron nodded, he knew that Harry had sunk a lot of money into the Wheezes and now it was becoming apparent what he spent some of it on. He pointed further up the Alley, thankfully away from the explosions, to the twin's storefront.

"Let's move." Ron's voice was raw from the dust raining down around them. Racing through the street; they made it to within a quidditch pitch distance to the store when Ron felt the curse before he saw it. He folded Hermione into his embrace and spun quickly on the spot, instinctively knowing where the curse was coming from. He took the full brunt of the red jet of light; crushing his left side and smashing the both of them into the street. The last thing he remembered was Hermione's high pitched screaming matching his own.

Kreacher heard Master Weasley's shouts of pain even in the hellacious din of the street. He was aware of exactly what was happening; the trails of Dark Magic flourished everywhere he looked. George was in a panic and Kreacher couldn't blame him; almost all of the British Weasleys were in London this morning. The twin stood transfixed watching the horror outside as if it were a nightmare waiting to dissolve as he woke up. The house elf had again felt that strangeness, the familiar restlessness that had accompanied his true Master's awakening for the past few days.

Now he wondered whether or not this event was what he felt the danger from. He cursed his lack of foresight and planning. His indecisiveness would not cost any of Master's friends even if it meant his own. His golden eyes raked along the street until he saw the familiar bushy brown hair covering a collapsed figure and without a sound he was gone.

Hermione felt a pair of impossibly strong hands grab her arms and pull her and Ron up, despite her boyfriend's nearly unconscious protests. She reached for Ron's wand as she spun quickly, an Unforgivable curse on her lips and she gasped when seeing those piercing golden eyes.

"Hold on, you are both safe" the faery folk replied and with a whisper they arrived back at the Wheezes. Kreacher lowered Ron into one makeshift bed that he transfigured from a shelf of Chocolate Frogs and conjured a chair for Hermione to sit in while he started his ministrations. "Master George, I believe this requires potion six if you would please."

George was snapped out of his reverie, "Absolutely Kreacher, and I think perhaps a pinch of the dittany as well." Kreacher smiled slightly, glad that his lab partner was responsive again.

Hermione's eyes became like saucers as she took in the house elf's new appearance. "Kreacher?" The little elf bowed slightly as he ran glowing hands over Ron's injured left side. "What happened, you look so … different."

"Master Harry … he is becoming a Peverell" Kreacher whispered so quietly that Hermione thought she had heard wrong.

"I know he has Peverell blood, but what do you mean _becoming_?" Hermione knew he held the surname of the extinct lineage, but you don't _become_ a name, it's what you were.

Kreacher shook his head as George approached with the dittany and the special Harry edition potion six. The elf got Hermione to force Ron to drink the potion, and then place the dittany over the wounds as Kreacher finished healing each one on his side. As George retreated to ensure the goblin wards were still in place, his golden eyes sparked again. "Mistress Hermione, I am near the pure form of elf, from before we were bound to wizards with wands, from an ancient time. I am transforming because Master Harry is as well, though his journey will be considerably longer and … more painful." Kreacher's eyes were forlorn and saddened in voicing the plight of the Magi he served.

Hermione knew that the elves' well-being and power was tied to their Masters and often were subjected to possibly cruel treatment; it was the reason she was so adamant about house elf and creatures' rights. However, she never could have expected that the servile relationship could be so equal or powerful for the servant, and she had to admit, Kreacher was no servant anymore, he acted as if … as if he was Harry, a noble being with free will.

"Harry would be proud of you Kreacher." Hermione couldn't keep the waver out of her voice, nor keep the tears from slowly welling in her eyes. Her boyfriend was injured and unconscious on a cot during a terrorist attack and her best friend was gone; it seemed so unimaginably unfair. She grabbed Ron's hand whispering about how she needed him and how brave he was; she nodded her thanks to Kreacher as he stood to help George secure the store.

* * *

Ginny hissed in pain as she dragged herself down the street against the flow of screaming wizards and witches. The storefront glass and wood was no doubt imbedded in her back and she was sure she caught at least one cutting curse across her thigh. The pain was unbearable, but she would have to make it. She looked down and saw Teddy's frightened face and redoubled her efforts. She had checked him as soon as the explosion tore open the ice cream parlor and found him unharmed. _Thank Merlin._ Ginny felt cold and tired and though her motherly instincts were carrying her to where she needed to go, she saw with a sinking heart that she wouldn't make it in time.

Her strength waning she started to buckle under the weight of both Teddy and the knowledge that she had failed them both; that Harry's godson would likely be trampled or lost in this furious attack was just more weight bearing her down to her knees. She smiled resignedly as her vision began to tunnel and merciful darkness approached.

"Don't you dare go to sleep!" A loud insistent voice penetrated the fog. "Get up, Ginny, get up and fight." She blearily opened her eyes, ready to curse that shrill tone. It took a moment to focus her vision to the blood streaked dirty blond hair of her favorite Ravenclaw.

"Luna." Ginny's voice trailed off as a guttural moan escape her lips as her petite friend hauled her off her knees and began marching her against the masses. "We won't make it this way Luna, I can't walk." Ginny pleaded with her friend to take Teddy and just take him somewhere safe.

Luna looked back with amazing clarity in her usual dreamy eyes, "I haven't done this side-along before, but it _will_ work. It has to." Whether she was trying to convince Ginny or herself, she focused her view at the store at the end of the Alley, remembering everything about it, the shelves, the smells, the layout of the shop. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned quickly on her heel, holding Ginny and Teddy tightly.

They arrived at the storefront and were ushered in by George. His faced paled when he saw his baby sister's back full of bleeding cuts and slashes, but he blanched when looking down at Luna's leg. A large scoopful of calf muscle had neatly been excised and it seemed Luna was finally noticing it herself. She collapsed into the twin's arms as he yelled for Kreacher.

* * *

Harry and Kenji were finishing their transactions with the associate director at Gringotts. Harry had taken his healer's explanation to heart about the extermination of the Arcane throughout history. It would not be enough to be more magically powerful than the usurpers; he needed political power and money with lots of both. This, plus not being complacent such as the _sohei_, would provide the best chance for a permanent return.

Political power can't be generated overnight and that was the fact that irritated Harry the most, but he understood that the pressure to crack the Pureblood stranglehold in Britain would take years to generate. At least he knew how to begin to gain that leverage; his healer gave him the idea the very first day they met in America. The seeds of movement were planted so innocuously that even the goblins were confused with his requests. Harry had exercised his dormant Slytherin qualities to put into place this long term plan. Money, political power created leverage; it was leverage that exiled him, now it would serve him.

Three corporations purchased, all Muggle. One in South Africa, one in France and the last in Japan, two technology startups and one asset management company. It cost a sizeable portion of his Potter fortune, but if these companies gave Harry what he hoped; they would be priceless. He carefully reviewed the blueprints for the safe house his father built in Japan to stay in while receiving his training decades ago. It was inevitable that the Ministry would trace him again, and he would not place his healer and his family in jeopardy.

Kenji looked questioningly at his _kohai_, bewildered at his aggressive business sense and his conviction. Harry's acquisitions made little sense, other than the places in which two were located. He knew why Harry chose France, but had no clue as to the company's value, the Japanese company was obvious. _South Africa? It will require a bit of reading and researching if he won't tell me straight away. _

He studied his young charge's face and found him to be staring back at him with a smirk. _Little bastard knows I am wondering about his motives._ Kenji laughed a bit at the marked change in Harry in just a few weeks; things were falling into place for him training wise and also seemingly for the incredible task at securing his safety in Britain.

His sarcastic quip was interrupted by a loud alarm. The goblin manager immediately addressed their concerns, "There is an attack occurring outside of the bank in Diagon Alley. Remain seated, there have been some anti-apparition and other protective wards automatically erected. You will be safe here."

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously, "What sort of attack, and who are the targets?" Kenji coolly glanced at the goblin as well, it could be the Ministry searching for Harry and it would finally prove their suspicions and justify their visit.

The goblin shrugged his shoulders, "Seems to be a terrorist attack, explosions and destruction of storefronts and quite a few casualties given the grand reopening and parade route through the Alley. There are rumors of the Dark Mark being present." The goblin's callousness and indifference enflamed Harry's glare, but when he mentioned the Dark Mark, Harry's posture immediately tensed. Kenji felt and then smelled the difference in Harry; it was a change in pressure and the distinct odor of ozone, of electricity.

Harry stood abruptly and headed for the office door that led to the lobby. "Lord Potter, you cannot leave, the bank is on lockdown and the wards keep you from apparating." Kenji stood quickly as well, he knew that the mild precautions that the goblins thought adequate wouldn't stave Harry's wrath; he proved already that he was able to shift through any wards if he was focused enough. It was up to the _sohei_ to make him see reason.

"Harry! You can't leave here. Defeating those men won't get rid of your guilt. It won't bring back those you lost." He grabbed the raven haired wizard and spun him around, "You owe the dead nothing more than you have given. It wasn't your fault they died."

Harry glowered at the shorter man, "I owe them vengeance Kenji, and I plan to deliver."

Kenji groaned internally as he changed tactics, "They died not just for you, Harry. You were the leader, but if it were anyone else, would they have fought for their freedom any less? Would your friends Hermione or Ginny fought any more or less?" He placed both hands on Harry's shoulders, "This is not your fight, you were exiled from this place and these troubles; it is their war to carry on." He exhaled when Harry seemed to mull over his words.

When Harry's face drew level with Kenji's, he saw determination and real anger. "Which is it then, Kenji? I fight to avenge the dead and ease my guilt, or fight to honor those who would have fought regardless? You can't have it both ways." He was practically yelling down his _sempai_.

"_Kohai_…" Kenji said softly, "It's not my place to judge your motives. It is my job to keep you safe from the Ministry. If that means preventing you from fighting, then so be it; but if this incident _only_ deals with Death Eaters then it leaves only your wand as the trace. You are not yet skilled enough to fight without it, and I won't let you fight _with_ it."

If Kenji was expecting that to placate Harry, he was sadly mistaken. Harry pulled his wand and jabbed it painfully into the older man's chest. "I will use whatever magic I have to stop them. It's not 'if', it's when. Either I use it to stop you and _then_ use it out there, or I use it with your help to kill them. No compassion, no forgiveness. You taught me to show them no mercy for what they've done." His anger was mired in desperation.

Harry withdrew his wand and looked imploringly into black eyes, "Kenji, they are attacking my home." It almost came out as a whisper and before he was finished; Harry clamped his hand down on the monk's wrist and shifted them out onto the street.

The smell of burning flesh and blood assaulted Kenji's sensitive nose initially and he turned to take in the devastation behind him. It was worse than he could have imagined, and had he known this was what waited for them at the beginning, he would have murdered the Death Eaters already. His calculating eyes swept over the carnage of small children and adults alike, cut down by spells or explosive force. The corpses of children were burning in collapsed storefronts. Those dead children brought forth a recollection so vivid and deep within him, he knew it was a core memory of the end of their magical lineage. _Those same burning children, whole families cut down, the same utter devastation._

Suddenly it didn't matter that he was supposedly Harry's conscience or that Britain wasn't his home; these were child killers and death would be too merciful a fate for them. The fury was overwhelming and only through years of meditative breathing could he reign it in enough to look at his _kohai_. _I have to calm him, if I am this angry, then he will be enraged. This will be so much worse than at the clinic. _He regarded Harry and was truly fearful of what he saw.

There was a cold ferocity that dulled his eyes, but otherwise seemed calm, too calm, like the eye of a typhoon or the receding tidal waters before a tsunami. The pressure, however, around Harry was suffocating and the static singed Kenji's hair. With a dangerously smooth and measured voice Harry pointed to a store and asked, "Do you see that store, meet me there in two minutes." Kenji nodded, grateful of his promise to meet and hopefully help Harry focus before poisoning himself with uncontrolled amounts of the Fade again.

As his _sempai _gracefully raced down the street at incredible speed, Harry let his tightly wound control relax and embraced his anger. His mind bathed in the righteous fury and began to harness it to fuel his magic. He would have to use his wand and that meant the Ministry would know he was here. He knew he would have a confrontation with the Unspeakables at least, perhaps even the Hit Wizards and maybe then his life would be forfeit. He imagined that realization would have scared him but witnessing the devastation of children and their families quelled that worry. _These Death Eaters have earned their fate. _He felt the familiar blistering pain radiating from his core, magical or otherwise, that signaled his channeling of the ambient Fade. He welcomed the pain, embraced it, and would be sharing it soon. _All of the Death Easter will share in my pain_. He thought of the Cauldron and shifted into the Void.

Hermione was watching the door and Ron as George and Kreacher tended to Luna and her ghastly splinching wound. Ginny was slumped exhausted with Teddy still clutched in her arms as she faced the back wall to the inventory room. The blood loss was lessened now that she was resting, but her wounds needed attention. Only Luna and Ron's more devastating injuries prevented Ginny from being treated by Kreacher and George at the moment. The bushy haired witch barely had enough time to shout a warning as the front door quickly opened and a stranger silently slipped through.

He held up his hands in a gesture of peace, but immediately two wands were trained on him. He spoke no words but looked them over as if assessing them as threats. Hermione clutched her wand fiercely; there was something abnormal about this man, besides his obsidian black eyes with golden flecks. He reeked of power and a slight arrogance, but it was the way he moved, like a predator among men that caused her to shiver. He was shorter than George and Ron but that did nothing to stem the anxiety Hermione felt at looking at him.

The stranger was Asian, having the same high cheekbones and delicate face features as Cho Chang, but had a maturity and fierceness that belied his age, whatever that may have been. She looked towards Kreacher, but he was giving the man a strange, appraising look and motioned for him to stay right where he was. The man nodded curtly, and glanced about the store casually, as if a paying customer. He seemed to be content to just wait. Exactly for what concerned Hermione greatly.

"Who are you?" Hermione called out, voicing that question instead of the one that needed to be answered. _Are you a Death Eater? _He certainly didn't seem so, his clothing was Muggle, had no visible wand, and most obviously was not attacking. The man began to speak but then his eyes flickered with a quick smirk to look at the back wall. The two wands and Kreacher's gaze snapped immediately to the wall in time to see a dark mist begin to coalesce in front of them. Hermione ran through her spells to find one that could put down any unknown enemy without risking all of their lives.

The mist formed into the shape of a man wearing a dark cloak. The air crackled with barely restrained magic and they all felt the pressure of it pushing against their bodies. Ginny gasped and shook her head back and forth whispering, "It can't be." Kreacher's response was one of complete shock, but Hermione was watching the man's hands for wands or quick movements. When none came, she began tracing her gaze upwards.

He was tall, around six feet, and had a strong, fluid build. His hands were weathered and tanned and in them he carried four small closed steel canisters in one hand, and two exquisite lacquered pieces of wood in the other. He wore Muggle clothes underneath his black cloak and she noticed that his face was angular and tanned with rakish jet black hair.

And green eyes. Beautiful, cold, emerald eyes that showed malice that Hermione had never seen in him.

Her wand clattered to the floor as the icy numbness of disbelief overwhelmed her. "Harry?" The Chosen One. Her best friend, had returned.


	12. Chapter 12 - Focus

Chapter 11 - Focus

Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.

**Summary: Harry returned to Britain and purchased some Muggle companies to prepare Harry's return. Ginny, Luna, and Ron were all injured severely in the attack in Diagon Alley. Harry and Kenji escaped the Gringotts' wards and resolved to meet at the Cauldron before taking vengeance on the Death Eaters. **

**A/N: I appreciate all the PMs and reviews, keep them up. They keep my writing honest and make my day. This has a bit of sexual material in it, but it's not even a mini lemon.**

_He was tall, around six feet, and had a strong, fluid build. His hands were weathered and tanned and in them he carried four small closed steel canisters in one hand, and two exquisite lacquered pieces of wood in the other. He wore Muggle clothes underneath his black cloak and she noticed that his face was angular and tanned with familiar rakish jet black hair._

_And green eyes. Beautiful, cold, emerald eyes that showed malice that Hermione had never seen in him._

_Her wand clattered to the floor as the icy numbness of disbelief overwhelmed her. "Harry?" The Chosen One. Her best friend, had returned. _

Hermione stood rooted to her spot staring at the cause of her emotional angst for the last few months. His eyes tracked the sound of her voice and focused his wrathful glare upon her. She reeled and took a few steps backwards as if he had struck her. His gaze held power and malice that gave her a shivering flashback to Fred's funeral. It was only a few months ago, but she remembered how much she feared for her and Ginny's safety. That day, Harry didn't even seem as furious as he did now.

Her guilt she felt over forgetting about Harry when in Australia intensified to include how they parted after the war was over. She couldn't help but feel responsible for _this_ Harry, the one whose ferocity and anger seemed destined to create the next dark wizard. When he needed her most she had abandoned him despite his loyalty, and now he would never forgive her. Her gaze misted over with tears at the loss of those qualities that made him so heroic.

His vengeful eyes spotted his best friend again and captured her brown eyes within his crystalline green ones, boring through her unshed tears to witness her bare soul. Hermione shuddered to see his absolute judgment of her weighing in his stare; but also felt a wavering in his ruthless assessment towards her; as if seeing her in some small way reclaimed who he was. Warmth flooded back into his face as it wrestled for control against the fury generated by the scene outside. She shrank a bit in anxiety as he closed the distance between them.

As he neared her, his stare shifted over to Ron and his severe injuries and sadness crept in to accompany his warmth and rage. He motioned over to Kreacher and sat down a few feet from Hermione in a lotus position. As his eyes closed and his elf neared, she felt something raw and elemental shift from Harry to Kreacher. She surely felt it, but also _heard_ it; a faint thrum vibrated in her ears and core that responded to the energy. Kreacher renewed his efforts to heal Ron and Hermione exhaled in relief as the bruising continued to heal and dissipate.

As a spent Harry stood gingerly, he took his best friend's face in his hands and she felt forgiveness. And hidden deep within him, felt a real sense of sadness. As if he was wrong about her or that he felt guilty. Guilty, for having put her in such an impossible position of choosing between her and Ron so suddenly afterwards when he so desperately needed to feel _something_. She nodded gratefully against his hands and he felt Hermione's forgiving smile on his weathered palms.

George was watching Harry in astonishment, not only had Harry recovered faster than anyone could have reasonably expected, but he was emanating power and confidence. The first was only surprising due to the extent of his injuries, those same injuries that had George retching in a bucket. Confidence from Harry was generally reserved for times of crisis or battle; this _intimate_ moment with Hermione was definitely _not _Harry's strong suit. He always shied away from emotional women; it was almost the running joke amongst the Weasleys and all of Hogwarts; admitting freely he was "pants" when it came to emotional situations. It was one of the reasons why Harry and his sister made such a good pair; she was rarely overly emotional and always upbeat.

George would always join in the gentle teasing of the unofficial Weasley about his terror when it came to the fairer sex's emotions; but rarely would he again. Those savage scars from this childhood explained with utmost certainty why Harry struggled to connect emotionally, cope with any powerful emotions, and why he never drew attention to himself or his accomplishments.

He envied Harry's new found confidence and resilience and wished he could share in that experience because Fred's death was still a crushing weight that depressed him. It was only when he saw the trepidation in Hermione's face that he began to realize how costly Harry's new found strength was. She was afraid of her best friend and the changes that allowed him to cope. The Weasley twin couldn't be completely sure as to what fueled this change, but for the first time he questioned Harry's mandate to him. Vengeance was a tremendous short term motivator, but it burned out quickly and left emotional scars. George glanced at the back door and wondered how long he could work in the Cauldron and forego moving forward.

His concern was mirrored by Kenji. While he noticed that the bushy haired witch was able to reach his _kohai_ for a moment, the raven haired Magi recovered his wrath quickly when he looked at the devastation outside of the store. Kenji felt the pressure begin to mount again as Harry inexorably drew in the Fade. Harry's entrenched sense of nobility and morality worked against him; it was the same concern Kenji had with his compassion. All his righteous anger summoned that raw magic, slowly killing him. As Harry slid by Hermione to mete out agony to the Death Eaters, Kenji had to play his last desperate gambit to reel in his _kohai_.

Just as Harry marched towards the front door and was to pass Ginny and Teddy slumped on the floor, Kenji called out to his young charge. "Harry … she's hurt."

The last Peverell turned with a confused look on his face, "Who is hurt?"

The _sohei _gave a pointed look down to the crimson haired witch and with a bit of mild chastising, "Her, your woman is hurt".

If Harry hadn't been so surprised at seeing Ginny and the rest of his friends here while trying to satisfy his anger, he would have noticed the brief spasm of jealousy running across Hermione's face. Kenji was not so oblivious and saw the war of emotions play across her face, and filed that information for later. The wizarding war in Britain might have been over with the death of Voldemort, but his _kohai_ was still fighting his own battle to return from unceremoniously exiled after being a war hero and hopefully he would assume the mantle of the Legion as well.

When fighting on that many fronts, they would need help; _all the help they could get_. Kenji grimly noted the witch's reaction. Harry would need her help whether voluntary or forced, and love, unrequited or even just familial was powerful leverage.

Hermione felt the gaze of the mysterious Asian stranger as he scrutinized her reaction to Harry's presence. It reminded her of both Dumbledore and Snape with how focused their concentration was, and she hated how naked it made her feel. She wasn't jealous of Ginny and Harry per se; she chose Ron and it was going pretty well.

What bothered and frightened her was that Harry, that one kiss notwithstanding, was a loving, noble man. It meant that everything he had, now that he was free from the burden of at least Voldemort, would be given to the person he loved. That was Ginny, she didn't know whether it could have been her, but she knew that Ginny would receive the very best of Harry. That was what she was jealous of. When they started dating, it was under the most trying circumstances and then they parted to go hunt for Horcruxes. Throughout their time at Hogwarts and on the run, she was Harry's confidante, but now that would be Ginny.

Hermione felt jealous because she and Harry were each other's rocks, their touchstones, and she finally understood the pain that must have been Harry's after the battle when she made her choice. It hurt because it wouldn't be the same between them again.

Harry looked down at Ginny, his Ginny, and his brow knit in concern. He quickly assessed the damage to her and sought out Kreacher. However, his elf was currently tending to Ron and given the sickening yellows and purples that were still emerging on his sides, Harry nodded to the elf to continue seeing to his best mate. Ginny, while injured was not in mortal danger, and she would have hexed him if he let her brother suffer. He noticed that Teddy was there and shared a quick smile with the infant as his hair changed to jet black. But his face fell when he saw Luna, she was pale and while the horrible splinching wound was no longer bleeding heavily, it was still something that required immediate medical attention.

Harry gritted his teeth in frustration. He _had_ to do something, Kreacher couldn't do it all himself and was working on Ron so he couldn't channel Harry's magic. _Channeling magic, that's all Kreacher was doing._ He looked at Luna, and had a hard choice to make. _Too much and it will be like at the clinic, too little and it will do nothing. Shape the Fade … needs to be soothing, healing for both Luna and Ginny_. Harry concentrated in the lotus position for mere moments before his eyes snapped open. He could do it, but it would be inefficient due to inexperience with the Fade. That wasted energy would be released around the Wheezes, _or_ Harry realized with a grimace the unrefined magic would have to be reabsorbed. The quicksilver scars on his back tingled with understanding and he winced but would not be deterred.

Luna needed him first, and while it required a tremendous effort to turn from Ginny, he wrenched his gaze from her and focused on the blonde haired witch. He examined her wound again, and while it registered that she had beautiful legs, he quickly sobered when he saw the amount of calf that was gone. _Merlin that's the size of my fist_. Harry knew he had to focus and push as much of the Fade as possible; he had no idea how much it would require for something like this. Three quick calming breaths and he touched Luna's leg and allowed the Fade to rush out.

Something was terribly wrong, the feedback was excruciating, much worse than the feeling at the clinic and Luna's leg was not healing. _Just a bit more._ As Harry pushed more, his back sang in agony and finally the scars split down the furrowed seams and quicksilver fluid began to flow. Harry tore his hands from Luna and closed his eyes against the pain threatening to put him under. Gasping, Harry looked down at the blonde Ravenclaw's pained face and reflected on what happened.

He pushed as much as he felt safe to, and it felt as if her body rejected it. _Maybe it was too much or … or maybe it was too foreign._ Harry's eyes grew wide as he realized what it must have been and he dropped his head in shame. At the resort, he felt like he was being torn in two when infused with the Fade and that's what he just subjected Luna to.

Harry tried again, much more slowly and forced himself to think of her, their friendship, her kindness, and how much he missed seeing her at Hogwarts. The feedback was considerably less and he felt Luna's body slowly accepting it. It was much more of his core essence than the ambient Fade, but Harry would have sacrificed everything for her safety if it was required. As his pain mounted, he stopped to check his progress and also see to Ginny. Luna's eyes fluttered open and startled to see Harry so close to her.

"Harry! I knew it!" Luna's arms flung themselves around the shocked Gryffindor. "I … felt your presence." She blushed a light pink at the admission while looking over at Ginny.

"Luna, I am sorry about your leg, it's only halfway healed." Harry saw her glance down, "That's going to leave a pretty nasty scar unless you can get to St. Mungo's soon."

Luna nodded, "Had no choice, Ginny and Teddy weren't going to make it back here…" She stopped when she saw the anger and concern in his face.

Harry snapped his focus to Ginny and felt his panic start to rise. _Weren't going to make it? __No, no. Focus, don't make the same mistake._ He examined her wounds, fractured ribs, puncture wounds on the back, concussion, but he saw something he couldn't believe as well.

_His magic and the Fade_. It was the very first he could identify, his magic was _in_ Ginny, not a lot but it was there. He stared at her relaxed face dipping in and out of consciousness with a look of utter confusion. _How the fuck did HE end up in there? Did I heal her before? How could … Grimmauld Place._ His eyes swept through the joke store and found Kreacher who refused to meet his eyes, neither would Kenji. Harry growled under his breath which startled Luna who was delighting in watching Harry's realization. He looked down at Ginny and gave her a chaste kiss.

He hoped that already having his magic within her would lessen the painful response but he began to prepare his magic regardless. It was much easier than with Luna to filter the Fade through his feelings for her. Her searing kiss when they parted, his love for her when in the Forbidden Forest. If he wasn't so lost in his feelings for her he would have realized there was no pain, no rejection.

When he felt it enough, he withdrew his lips and clinically looked at her back. There was still a lot of bruising, but nothing an overnight stay in St. Mungo's wouldn't fix. Breathing a sigh of relief and exhaustion, he leaned in and looked back at Ginny's peaceful face only to see a beautiful pair of light brown eyes fluttering open and staring back.

"This is real?" She rested her forehead against Harry's and let out a shuddering breath full of pent up emotion. She inhaled his scent, a smell of sandalwood and … ash. Her eyes flicked over to Luna, saw her partially healed leg and contented face. She smiled serenely at Luna, with a knowing glance. She turned her head slightly and saw her brother being tended to by Kreacher.

"They'll be fine Ginny." Harry whispered into her ear. Ginny's relief washed over both of them, but it was then that she realized this was the first time they had met since the funeral. _Well consciously._ It made her nervous and she hated it, hated that she might have screwed things up already; hated that she was unprepared to meet him, and hated that they were in a makeshift triage with him having to rescue her. _Again_.

Harry's eyes shrank from hers as he misunderstood her self-annoyance with justifiable anger towards him for his parting words earlier. He glanced at Hermione to find some reassurance and refuge from the impending Weasley rant and began to slowly pull away from Ginny. A fair bit of jealousy surged in her heart and she grabbed his forearms and pulled him back down.

"You are mine, Potter." She growled and kissed him fiercely on the mouth, trying to claim everything as hers. Harry's memory, the thought of him kissing Hermione, kissing him at Grimmauld Place all collided in her mind and she felt only one thing, she wanted him, needed him. Harry's eyes flew open in surprise and instinctively rocked away only to find Ginny's arms on his back pulling him into her again for another hard kiss. He couldn't help the long agonized hiss that slipped through his mouth. She smirked against his mouth but recoiled slightly when her hands felt the reason for that groan, touching the warm liquid seeping through his cloak.

Silvery ichor. She looked at her hands with alarm, and then looked straight into Harry's eyes. He barely nodded and gave quick glances to Luna and Ron and then his gaze rested back into her light brown eyes, piercing her with his intense stare. She felt her breath hitch and tried to calm her breathing from her second exposure to Harry's magic. Gazing at her wizard, her heart filled with joy knowing his healer was telling the truth. His eyes were darkened with love but barely hidden was his frustration as he glanced outside.

_His saving people thing. _Ginny groaned, of course. She made a snap decision to make it as hard for Harry to leave as possible. She snickered to herself at how surprised Harry would be with her boldness. She couldn't have known that Harry had come to the same conclusion; that this conceivably was the last chance to see each other and share their feelings.

She was still feeling pleased with herself when she felt his soft lips pressing insistently on hers. Shocked, her eyes flew open to see his fiery green eyes bearing down on hers. His naked desire immediately uncoiled the warmth in her core. Ginny's memory of Grimmauld Place flooded into every part of her being, bringing a gasp to her lips. She felt Harry smirk into her kiss.

_Oh Merlin, he knows. He knows, and he's doing it on purpose._

Any clarity in thought evaporated as Harry's magic bore down into her core and uncoiled the remainder of his essence. She closed her eyes as the sensations surged into her body. She felt his weathered hands trace heat across her naked back and leisurely touch her toned stomach. Ginny cursed her audience as she knew Harry's kiss would remain chaste but her body knew better. She whimpered quietly into his lips as she felt his magic coil into her breasts, the heat of his breath and mouth was unbearable against her soft flesh. The idea that no one but them knew what his use of the Fade was doing tortured her even more.

As she wondered how far Harry would go, she froze when her mind registered the wet heat of his mouth and tongue _down there_. She let out a strangled moan and tried to deepen their kiss to draw in more from Harry's magic. When he refused, Ginny trapped his leg within hers and pressed deliciously close into his thigh, sighing her relief caused by the friction. _Fine I can play that game too._

Whatever, Ginny had in mind was interrupted when her youngest brother let out a groan as he came to. "What the hell is Ginny doing with … Harry?"

Ginny didn't break contact with Harry's lips but looked beseechingly towards Hermione then Luna. Luna understood first and after she fought down the blush of watching her best friend grinding against Harry, replied dreamily, "Harry's quite skilled in healing though it requires physical contact." She gingerly showed her leg, "It's actually much better than it was, Harry helped you too."

"He didn't…?"

"No silly, Kreacher channeled his magic and just touched your sides." Hermione said with a huff.

"Then why …?" Ron looked puzzled at his best mate kissing his sister.

"Ginny's wounds were pretty severe and Harry needed something to work better." Luna's lie was sealed as truth. "He could have kissed you too I suppose, you could have healed faster."

"Bloody hell Luna. No thanks. But, why … why are Ginny's legs twitching like that? Is she having a seizure?" Ron asked incredulously, not noticing the other girls' faces erupt into flush redness or their rolling eyes.

"Ginny's close, err… close to finishing, her healing." Hermione ground out, still crimson in her face in embarrassment and flushed quite a bit watching Ginny coming undone. She looked to be in either a tremendous amount of pain, or nearing nirvana.

Ginny was half hearing the conversation between her clueless brother and her two friends. In any other situation, her brother's ignorance would be hilarious, but it was increasing difficult to concentrate on anything but the wetness pooling between her legs and the blissful friction of Harry's thigh. Her reverie was broken when Harry's deep voice whispered in her ear, "Don't worry, we're almost there." It took all she had to not orgasm at hearing the sound of his voice.

But when he pinned her grinding legs to the ground with his strong hands, there was only one place for his leaking Fade to go. Harry was fast losing control as he felt her spasms grow more erratic. More and more magic poured into her, and as Ginny came undone, Harry muffled her scream with his smiling mouth and shared in her physical and magical release. She bit down on his lips, only faintly registering the taste of blood and ground out another climax. Her eyes fluttered open and was surprised to see her old Harry, still staring back at her. He gauged her reaction tentatively, nervous that he had pushed her too much. She smiled through her deep exhale. _Same caring, noble, loving Harry._ That he was still in there in that hardened body and mind brought a tremendous relief to Ginny.

Kenji could tell the moment he pointed out that Ginny was hurt that his _kohai_ would stop and help her. Even if he didn't know her, he probably would have helped. It was who he was, and Kenji hoped that would be enough to balance his rage. Once she kissed him back, he knew that Harry's only problem would be too much of the Fade, not an inconsequential problem, but one with more solutions.

However, he was not prepared for Harry to push her so far. His heightened sense of smell twitched slightly as the scent of Ginny's release was flooding the store. It wouldn't be too long before the other witches would notice, though judging by their faces, they already knew what was happening. A mixture of envy and shock splashed across their faces. Kenji took a small sense of pride in both. _After all, it was our training that made his control so much better. Father would be proud his tantric focusing was put to good use. _Though, the ability of his young charge to heal Ginny was miraculous, it pointed out just how vulnerable Harry was.

This Ginny, his witch, while admirably balancing his _kohai,_ was dangerous. She was the ultimate leverage against him. Judging by his gaze, Harry would sacrifice everything for her, and given his standing amongst the Pureblood houses and his possible return as an Arcane magi, the enemies he would have would be too numerous to count.

_They will both need protection once Harry announces himself fully. For now, he can remain in exile, biding his time._ As it were, Kenji would much rather Harry stay safe in this store, while he tested his mettle against these men who deserved nothing less than a painful death. He began to slip towards the doorway when he heard a small cry from Teddy as the baby lurched towards Ginny.

As Harry looked on, he saw _his_ family, Ginny, Teddy, and the future that it would hold for him. Teddy's cry also shocked him back to the present; these Death Eaters had attacked that family, his friends and ripped apart countless other families. These fanatics were the reason he was in hiding now. _They will pay with their lives._ Ginny saw the anger building in Harry and fought to keep her panic down. She could clearly recall the grisly scene at Grimmauld Place, and truthfully those photos of Alecto and Stevens had frightened her. She wouldn't allow him to be reckless and needed him to be focused. She grabbed his wrist as he stood and pulled him back down to her and Teddy.

"Harry. This is no longer about _you_, this is about _us_." She pointedly glanced at Teddy. Ginny hoped that recalling his mother's sentiments would temper his anger. His eyes softened both at his mother's memory and her feelings that allowed the snitch to open. _One more card to play._ She held up her fingers covered in that silvery ichor that she quickly learned to hate, "Stay focused. I don't ever want to see this again." She gave him a bruising kiss that left nothing of her feelings to the imagination. When she opened her eyes, she was relieved to see Harry's eyes.

Cold determination and a deep sense of fulfillment. With a quick nod of his head and quick smile, he flipped the lacquered wood and canisters to Kenji. "They're all yours." Harry called out as his _sempai_ revealed the two enchanted swords. "Darkness powder for outside", as he gestured to the canisters. Harry pulled his holly wand from his robe and held up a warning hand to his mentor.

Before they reached the entrance to Diagon Alley, Harry turned, "Kreacher you stay here, protect them with your life. George, Hermione, Ginny, keep watch for families or victims, this will be a safe house. Kreacher can make sure they are safe. Do not come out here, my control is poor, at best." He finished with a pointed look towards Ginny that would brook no argument.

With that, they disappeared into the chaos followed by Ginny's whispered, "Be careful."

Kenji threw two canisters immediately upon leaving; one into the Alley directly in front of the store, and one as a distraction much further down the Alley to the left of the entrance. Harry gestured quickly towards that left, "I see a few stragglers down there, see if they need help. There is a pub there called the Leaky Cauldron, I imagine it's a safe house. I'll look down here, and no, I won't fight unless my life is in danger." Harry yelled over the din, knowing the exact look Kenji would be giving him.

Harry watched his mentor run with unnatural speed down towards the Leaky, while he assessed the damage to the right. It looked much less than towards Kenji's location, but perhaps that was due to a larger Auror presence. When he saw the Dark Mark hovering over the pub, he followed his _sempai_. They joined a small cadre of Aurors and wizards trying to flank the Death Eaters stationed outside of the pub, while spells were traded between a second set of Riddle supporters and wizards actually within the pub itself.

Harry and Kenji barely listened to the mumblings of an obviously young Auror in charge before interjecting. "Be ready to move to the second set in two minutes. Don't fire into the darkness" was all the warning the Aurors got before the third of four canisters landed amongst the Death Eaters. They stopped casting for mere moments in their confusion, but that's all they needed.

The inky blackness and the silence that followed was quickly torn open by the loud screams as Kenji asserted his birthright. Harry's blind fighting had gotten better and while his swordsmanship was not nearly the level as his mentor, amongst the helpless he was a master. Despite his anger, Harry used a simple wooden sword, the devastation that a real sword could do was still too fresh in his mind. _Besides we will need prisoners to question and by the sounds of it, Kenji was taking none_. Kenji with his altered senses and sword mastery was a Reaper in the midst of mortal men; Harry could've tracked his movement by the screams that followed, but relied on that silvery aura that his Arcane body emitted.

Within moments, all screaming stopped and Kenji emerged from the darkness covered in the terrorists' blood, slowly wiping the swords off against a scrap of cloth. Harry stumbled out covered in small cuts and bruises and rolled his eyes at his _sempai _and the pristine nature of his clothes. He coughed when his eye roll was met with grumbling about compassion and mercy. "The second set, we need to lead them away from the pub." Saito nodded, "Show them your pretty smile, _kohai_, I bet they can't wait to see you."

Harry snorted but couldn't argue; if they were Death Eaters, the chance to kill the Chosen One was almost too good to pass up. "Is that you Doholov, Amycus? You hurt one of mine, I kill one of yours. But this, this cowardly shit is pathetic even for you." He had to yell over the roaring fires and secondary explosions, but a jet of brilliant crimson light zipping by his head was all the response he needed to know they got the message.

"They heard me." Before his second quip, a rainbow barrage of spells shot towards the Aurors, Harry and Kenji. Luckily, the Aurors were ready with Shield charms and conjured walls to absorb the curses. They had recovered their wits after the initial barrage and after seeing _the_ Harry Potter. The group began a strategic retreat, pulling the attacking Death Eaters away from the Leaky Cauldron and its patrons. Harry cursed his uselessness, using his traced wand would bring more combatants and if they were from the Ministry this time, may turn the Aurors against him, but using the Fade with all these people around was exactly what Matheson warned him about. _An explosion, just like Pettigrew's escape_.

Harry fought the bile back down his throat at the comparison. Matheson was right, his magic _was_ dangerous. That thought helped ease the pain of seeing the Aurors' incredulity at his inaction. He was doing a good job as bait, however. The Death Eaters were now caught in a crossfire between the Aurors and the wizards emerging from the Leaky. Harry recognized the first wizard out immediately.

"Neville!" Harry couldn't help but smile at his fellow Gryffindor. He hadn't heard specifically from the healers he assigned to Frank and Alice, but he had paid for the best and hoped for the same. That hard edge he felt from the Longbottom scion at Hogwarts seemed alive and well. Neville's face was furious; ready to pay back those Death Eaters for his parents' torture. He would have his pound of flesh.

"Harry?" Neville's confused shout was drowned out by the sheer volume of spells cast back and forth. As he saw the situation, he changed from borderline dark spells to less damaging ones in case he missed. He noted Harry's nod of the head in appreciation and motioned behind the Aurors' position. Harry whipped his head around, expecting more trouble but sighed in relief when he saw his friends corralling families and children into the Wizard Wheezes.

The black robed fanatics noticed the positions they were in and began searching for an escape. They were surrounded and Harry felt the palpable relief from the young Aurors in his group. Harry's eyes narrowed as one of the Death Eaters eyed the families struggling down the street to the makeshift triage at George's store. He faintly saw the buildup of magic as the long incantation neared its end. He briefly considered using his wand, but didn't. However, when the first tendrils of fire emerged he wished he had.

"Fiendfyre!" The young Auror let loose a choice series of curses as he looked haplessly to his colleagues. "This spell is beyond any of us." There was no mistake where the cursed flames were headed and how devastating the flames would be when it arrived. All of the eyes quickly converged on Harry, the Chosen One. His only strategy three months ago was to run in the Come and Go room, but that wouldn't help anyone now. He couldn't meet the eyes of those looking for a miracle, there wasn't one to give. Only when his _sempai's_ voice cut through the tension, could Harry look up.

"Harry?" There was a warning in his voice, but also proud resignation. He glanced down at Harry's wand questioningly. Harry shook his head no. "You could … like your father."

His feelings for Ginny won out … almost. There were too many families and if he could do anything to save them, he would. Before he though too much more about the fiery witch, he shifted to the front of George's store. Taking a deep breath after seeing the oncoming rush of cursed flame, he dared glance back to the windows in the store front. He sought out and found Ginny's beautiful doe brown eyes with his sorrowful ones and mouthed the words he so desperately wished he told her sooner.

"I love you."

**A/N: A cliff hanger, I know. Leave angry comments if you must, but it really is a good place to stop, judging by the next two chapters. To the 12 new favorites and 19 new followers, welcome and tell your friends!**


	13. Chapter 13 - Ollivander's redemption

Chapter 12 - Ollivander's Redemption

Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.

**Summary: Harry and Kenji returned to Diagon Alley and met with the core members of the DA. The remaining Death Eaters attacked during the grand reopening of many of the shops and in the ensuing battle Ron, Luna, and Ginny were all wounded. Harry and Kenji with the help of Neville stalled the Death Eaters until the arrival of the Aurors. Doholov conjured Fiendfyre and sent it towards the fleeing families near the Wizard Wheezes.**

**A/N: Thanks for all the new favorites and alerts added to this story since the last update. I am glad to see you all onboard to enjoy the story and help keep my writing honest. I have noticed a dearth of good stories and a tidal wave of smut permeating this site recently and would like to keep my story clean from the drek out there, so review and comment! Gabrielle fans, it's next chapter.**

_His feelings for Ginny won out … almost. There were too many families and if he could do anything to save them, he would. Before he though too much more about the fiery witch, he shifted to the front of George's store. Taking a deep breath after seeing the oncoming rush of cursed flame, he dared a glance back to the windows in the store front. He sought out and found Ginny's beautiful doe brown eyes with his sorrowful ones and mouthed the words he so desperately wished he told her sooner. _

"_I love you." _

Ginny saw Harry reappear in front of the store and her immediate joy died on her lips when she saw his grave face looking towards the Leaky Cauldron. She glanced over and saw the cursed fire barreling down the Alley. Feeling his gaze back on her, she saw the incredible sorrow and disappointment in his eyes as he said those words she always dreamed of hearing. _Why is he so sad and ... devastated?_ Her temper flared at how upset he looked in his admission, but as he stayed outside and slowly turned back to the flames, she knew. She knew it wasn't a confession, it was a lamenting goodbye.

Hermione barred her way through the door and before Ginny could throw a hex or fist, she had wrapped the youngest Weasley in a crushing hug. Ginny's temper lasted only a moment before she totally broke down and started screaming at Harry, cursing his nobility and his selflessness. Drowned out in the tirade was Hermione's own heart breaking so violently, she felt Harry had to hear it. The most important friend they both had was probably going to die as they watched. Hermione had no idea what Harry was planning, and didn't care; she watched Crabbe burn and knew Harry would too.

Harry felt their anguish but he dared not turn around, lest his resolve crack and run back to those that he loved. But that was selfish, to put his _wants_ over the _needs_ of those other families. His brain knew that his childhood abuse made him value his life less than others, the classic self-loathing born from a lack of unconditional love, but it was the first time his heart was immersed in it. He loved Ginny, that was certain, and he loved Hermione just as much, but it wasn't enough to turn back. He felt betrayed by Dumbledore as the final pieces of his predestined life slid into place.

His abuse, his ability to empathize, to sacrifice for others, they all led to his voluntary sacrifice to Tom Riddle. All of it was also an albatross around his neck, it left no room for real love, real partnering of one's self. Harry snarled aloud at the life and realizations flashing before his eyes. His time and focus on those thoughts were a luxury he didn't have right now. He needed a plan, _any_ plan against the cursed fire.

He noticed that the Death Eaters were retreating, obviously confident that their message had been sent. He stared into the Fiendfyre searching for any hope to save the lives in the Alley, and smiled slightly when he saw an opening.

* * *

Doholov gritted his teeth in frustration; they lured Harry Potter out from whatever American hole he was living in, but now his fifteen minutes were up. The warning words from Augustus rang sharply in his ears, and he idly wondered if a compulsion charm was used to give him a bit more _incentive_. He would have to rely on triggering Potter's wand, so that the token Ministry officials and more importantly, their Hit Wizards could finish the job. They had already attacked his best friends and his ex-girlfriend and still he used no magic. He was either a coward or had hardened his heart against the suffering of others. The Gryffindor would have usually charged headfirst into the situation, but this new Harry Potter had coordinated an ambush with his companion and drawn them into a crossfire. It was almost ... Slytherin.

But he knew that noble streak was entrenched, both he and his Lord had counted on it time and again to leverage the Potter scion. How hardened was his heart? He would put that question to the ultimate test and sent the cursed fire down the Alley. The public relations hit that they had hoped to inflict would be mitigated somewhat by the magical return of Harry Potter, but nonetheless, the Ministry would be seen as impotent against his Death Eaters. All of those issues would be inconsequential if the Boy-Who-Lived became the wizard who burned.

"Die Potter." He grinned savagely as he spared one moment to see his handiwork torch the abandoned storefronts. He apparated away at the sixteen minute mark, and true to their contacts' word, nearly a minute later the secondary Auror response team arrived.

* * *

Harry peered into the hellish flames, noting at once the Fade that gave life to them; Fiendfyre wasn't a curse, it was a summons. The spirit or whatever Arcane being that was given life in the flames sought freedom once unleashed. _Only a powerful wizard like Dumbledore or … Tom could direct and control it._ He knew his skill wasn't enough, but it wouldn't have to be. Harry just needed to draw it in to delay it. _Keep its focus on you and control the spirit._ He was sweating in nervousness, but he lied to himself and said it was from the flames; there was no room for weakness or doubt.

He focused on the silvery threads amongst the furious vermillion and began tracing it back to the spirit within. As soon as he saw the small mote of raw magic, Harry seized upon it and extended his training outside of his own mind to encompass it. As the agony dropped him to his knees, Harry bitterly thought of his father and his anguished face. _Hideki was not lying about the pain._ His vision blurred until that silvery mote was all that filled his vision. He urged it closer, struggling against its desire to roam. It was far too agonizing to corral it completely, so Harry did the only thing he could. He cleaved a small piece of the spirit off as he drew in the Fade. It was only marginally less excruciating, but it definitely got its attention.

The dragon's head snarled in anger and swooped low to regard the lone teenager in the street. While not completely sentient, the flames knew the pain came from him. Hurtling down the street, it instinctively drove to reclaim what he had taken.

_SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!_ Harry wanted its attention but not to fight it. He remembered that Ginny was probably still watching him, which bolstered his confidence and bravado. _Just don't let her see you piss yourself_. There was no spell that he knew, no miraculous unknown wand magic, no magical soul bond to stave off the flames. He felt Kreacher appear next to him, anxious to provide help to his Master. Harry didn't dare shift his gaze, but ordered his elf to protect the store no matter what.

"Kreacher, you will stay in the store and maintain the wards, no matter what. Even if I fall. Especially if I fall." Harry blinked back tears of frustration and fought back a strangled sob, "Tell Ginny …" His dutiful elf didn't need to hear the words or the commands that would follow. He nodded to himself, touched his Master's hand in remembrance, and reappeared in the store.

Ginny's hot tears ran down her face and were soaking Hermione's shirt, but when her last hope of Harry's elf returning with his Master failed, she knew his fate. "Where is Harry, why didn't you bring him here?" Her strained screaming made Kreacher wince, but he had to follow his orders. "Mistress Ginny, it is the only way, he is … sadly, a most remarkable wizard." Whatever else Kreacher wanted to say was drowned out by the oncoming rush of fire and heat.

Harry felt the flames lapping at his enchanted cloak and wondered how long the fire resistant runes would last against cursed fire. Ever since he burned Stevens to death, he took the same precautions himself. The answer to his question didn't have to wait long, when the dragon's maw clamped on his left arm the burning began in earnest. Harry shut his eyes to the pain and the intensity of the flames, opening them slightly every few seconds to check on the families' retreat.

He wasn't sure what was worse, the burning or the teeth piercing his cloak; it all merged into one unrelenting sensation. _Damn families, get moving!_ Harry gritted his teeth; no one would survive if he waited to die. He whimpered against his teeth, knowing what was coming. _Maintain your focus, if you die, Ginny dies._ He screamed in pain as he opened his mind and body, pulling in all the raw magic the spirit had to offer.

Ginny heard the primal scream, but had no idea what was happening. Harry was still wreathed in flames. Even if he wasn't, she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing the carnage the Fiendfyre would deliver. As the flames receded, she saw Harry emerging clothed in … _molten silver?_ It was dripping off of him, distorting his features, but she still saw the tortured face and silent scream of her wizard. His agony bore him to his knees, but the flames continued to ebb. As the last of the flames dissipated, Harry began retching great gouts of thick silver as he sunk slowly to the ground.

She saw his friend quickly arrive by his side and felt a pang of jealousy. _That should be me._ He whispered quickly into Harry's ear and gestured to his right hand. He wearily raised his wand and a white hot beam of light shot straight into the air. Within a few moments, his beloved holly wand vibrated violently, surged, and finally exploded in Harry's hand. The shock on Harry's face belied the sadness at seeing his wand shatter into nothingness. He clenched his wand hand to a fist and the air shimmered as he conjured some kind of shield. He looked exhausted and pained. Ginny's body ached to hold and comfort him. It tore at her heart to see him so vulnerable and helpless.

Harry knew the trace had been activated and it was mere moments before the Unspeakables, the Ministry, Death Eaters, or whomever would arrive. _Azkaban, more exile, the killing curse? It won't matter unless I discharge more of the Fade…_ An idea blossomed in his mind something to repay his _sempai_ and continue his legacy.

"Kenji" his fire ravaged voice was faint but urgent; the Ministry would be here soon. "I can try and destroy your binding, like Riddle did for me. The Fade … we can flood your core, fracture it … you could be magical again, or … or you could die." He managed to look Kenji square in the eyes with a sense of urgency. They had seconds at most.

A quick nod from his _sempai_ and Harry grabbed his wrist and let go of his control. Kenji thought he knew pain, had trained his whole life to ignore and accept it, but this was different. It was the first time Harry ever heard him scream and he sympathized. He knew the pain intimately; it had no comparison and, sadly, no relief. Kenji fell to his left, whether he was dead or unconscious from the pain, he had no idea.

The Potter scion's panting subsided, exorcising the Fiendfyre's raw magic through Kenji and breaking his wand lessened one burden while creating a new one. As he felt the appearance of the Ministry and Hit Wizards, he began to know how much trouble he was in, with no wand, little control and families still in harm's way. Through the prism of his shield, he noted the seven wizards that arrived to his location. The garish blue cloaks of the Hit Wizards clothed four of them and while two of the Ministry looked surprised at seeing Harry Potter, the other Ministry worker and four trained killers were not. Harry memorized their faces. If he lived his answers would be extracted from them first.

Spells crashed across the prismatic shield Harry created from the Fade. He allowed a quick glance to his mentor and saw him struggling to get to his feet, retching in pain. Kenji's withering glare silenced all stupid questions Harry might have asked. _He has a point, "Are you ok?" seems a bit ridiculous to ask._ "We have to get you out of here. Are you ready?" The _sohei_ nodded and weakly rolled the last canister towards the blue robes.

"Leave them something, _kohai_. For their actions, there _must_ be consequences. You saw what I saw." Harry jerked his head in attention and winced at Kenji's assessment. He was no joyful killer, but knew something was required. They had to fear crossing him and hunting him down like a criminal. There was more than enough raw magic for what he planned. He meticulously aimed his burnt index finger at a Hit Wizard. _Serious injury is their job hazard and this bastard knew of the trace._

It was the first time Harry consciously focused on intent and effect and not what spell he wanted to mimic or the wand movement needed to produce it. He knew what he wanted and the Fade leapt to do his bidding…

* * *

Hermione's hand throbbed from Ginny's crushing grip. The crimson haired witch first clamped down on Hermione's hand as she watched Harry immolated on the spot. She had to prop Ginny up to prevent her from fainting dead to the ground. As the flames subsided and Harry staggered to his feet, Ginny returned the favor by nearing jerking Hermione back as she craned to see her wizard. Luckily, Hermione detached her grip before the Hit Wizards had arrived. Judging by the curse colors, the Ministry's original orders were to take Harry alive, if at all possible. As the colors morphed into purple and then blacks, she disregarded that first assumption. Kreacher refused exit for any of Harry's friends, and after much cursing of the elf, they sat in stunned silence watching the battle.

Secretly, Hermione was relieved they were prevented from leaving. She knew they would have fallen against the wizards' onslaught, the only thing keeping Harry and his companion alive was his shield. As for the shield, she had no idea what magic it was and it reminded her of Kreacher's admission as Harry and his companion left the store. It meant a visit to the Hogwarts' library was in order. As the last canister weakly dribbled in between the two groups and engulfed the space between them in darkness, she noted the conversation between the two raven haired wizards. Her eyes widened when Harry pointed a finger in lieu of his wand at the nearest Hit Wizard. His spherical shield thickened near his finger tip and Harry gave his best friend and others a meaningful glance.

"GET DOWN!" Ginny's scream snapped them all out of their observations. Only George and Ginny knew exactly what Harry was capable of. As the white hot light emerged through the dark shroud in the Alley, the vibration from the spell shattered the glass windows in the storefronts. Hermione watched in horror as the beam cleaved the Hit Wizard's arm like a hot knife through butter. The beam left a silver sheen at the amputation point which then burst into flames, turning the unfortunate soul into a human torch.

Harry grabbed Kenji's semi-conscious body, focused on the blooming cherry blossoms and bamboo grove of Mt. Hiei and without a sound shifted into the Void leaving behind the carnage in the Alley and the horrified faces of his closest friends.

* * *

"Hideki!" Harry's wild shouting drew his Healer from the reflecting pool back into their home. As the elder Saito reentered the house, his concern melted away into restrained hope. There was his son, screaming in pain, but the magic radiating off of him was palpable. "Kenji …", Hideki breathed a sigh of relief as his son met his gaze and slowly nodded. "It was the wand, father. It … ruptured when Harry was releasing his magic."

Hideki understood and gently clapped Harry on the shoulder, "This is twice you have saved our family Harry, we are in your debt." He shook his head numbly as Kenji's words sunk in. _I'm a wizard without a wand. The only wand that could have helped now, I destroyed in a childish rage._ Harry groaned when his healer tried to tell him of that exact wand that could corral the primal form of magic. "You are uniquely familiar with it, in fact your former Headmast …" Harry cut him off and finally admitted his recklessness, "I broke the Elder Wand … I was angry."

"Dammit!" Harry roared as he kicked the exposed beam in his _sempai's_ room. Hideki saw the angst and depression begin to settle in, Harry needed to move, to do something, it was the only way he knew to combat his brooding. Without the trace, Harry was free to do wanded magic to ease his transition, but he needed a wand. If everything went according to plan, they would actually need two. He left the room and returned moments later; he threw the shimmering cloak into Harry's arms. "I need you to search your Potter vaults for anything about the Elder Wand or on wand crafting. If not, you will have to purchase a wand."

"Hideki, you know all of those wands are catalogued by the Ministry as well as I do. And we saw how a normal wand reacts to the Fade" he held up his burned and cut hand, "It's not good".

"I am aware Harry; that's why you go to the vaults first, then as a last resort purchase a wand. Go see Ollivander if you can, I am sure you can convince him to sell or craft a wand without the Ministry knowing."

Harry's puzzled face spoke volumes. Ollivander was an odd wand crafter, but he wouldn't defy the Ministry like that, not while they had such an incestuous partnership. He had shown some interest in Harry and his holly wand years ago, but that wouldn't carry any impact now that Riddle was gone.

Hideki flashed a feral smile worthy of his son, "The Ollivander family has crafted wands since even before the Peverells. They also happened to be one of the Pure Houses of that same age." Hideki let the implications wash over the wizard. Harry's set jaw and clenched fists indicated his understanding. "I am sure you can think of a few ways to convince him of where his interests should lie."

* * *

Harry knew returning to Britain was risky even with his beloved cloak, but with the trace resolved, the concern was much less. In theory, he could have lived in Britain hidden away like a prisoner _or Sirius_ now, but he had fought too hard in the last war to live his life as a marked man again. Harry even considered researching binding his ancestor's gift, but he knew that wouldn't stop the Purebloods from hunting him once they knew of his existence. He sighed heavily, even anonymously living in a foreign country wasn't a possibility as his vacation in America proved. He downed the four potions given to him by Hideki and immediately felt better.

"Gringotts it is then." Harry spoke to no one in particular. As he shifted into the goblin bank, he quickly walked into the associate director's office and doffed his cloak.

"Lord Potter" the elder goblin startled in surprise at the burned teen in front of him. He flinched at the raw magic radiating from him, but recovered quickly. "How may we assist you today?"

"I am going to my vault." Harry's brevity concerned the goblin. _Perhaps he is unsatisfied with his purchases earlier?_

"Indeed… I will send for Griphook." With such a high profile client, the goblin submerged his disgust at being so obsequious, hoping to make up for whatever slight Harry Potter felt. He was after all, quite an important client.

"No need" and with that dismissal, Harry shifted into his family vault. It required a lot of magic to bypass the substantial wards in the more secure vaults, but the exhaustion was comforting. It leeched a lot of Harry's anger at being given this task now, so that his healer and son could discuss Kenji's unbinding, if it even worked like Harry had hoped. _I hate all of these secrets, all of these manipulations. _Everything was so coincidental concerning the events that set the stage for Kenji's situation, but Harry had to give them the benefit of the doubt. They were the only people that had any clue what was happening to him and how to control it.

Gritting his teeth, Harry swore he would never be so unprepared and naïve again. He had lived too long under someone else's control. Even his healer, while meaning well, put him in great danger. He went to scouring his vaults, looking for whatever information that would give him some independence. Hours later, frustrated and defeated, Harry gathered a few of the darker spell tomes and one ancient book on wand crafting from the Black vaults and donned his invisibility cloak. He hoped that after the attack in the Alley that the wand maker would still be there. Ollivander had a lot to answer for.

* * *

Hideki was glad that his son survived the unbinding, but it was too early to tell whether or not he would ever be more than a partial wizard. While his son was in resting, Hideki was planning the Legion's next moves. Harry was very perceptive, and the sudden reversal of keeping him hidden and safe to then have him travelling to London, into the heart of enemy territory, was going to cause a major problem. They discovered the trace on him and disposed of it which was imperative, but Hideki put his son and Harry in a very exposed position. The gambit worked, Harry was now free to practice wand magic as he transitioned to gaining full control of the Fade and more importantly teach Kenji if it all worked as he hoped. They just needed to convince him that he should and that the manipulation was worth it. _That we were still worth it._

As far as the businesses Harry purchased, some of them were a mystery to even Hideki, but based on the locations he knew some of his patient's end goals. He was playing a game of leverage and based on his actions, the Legion now rested squarely as a neutral, a group to be maneuvered like any other. Instead of allies, the healer and his patient were now only convenient associates and truthfully it bothered Hideki. They still needed Harry's help and he still cared deeply for the boy. He stared into his green tea and wondered if his dream for his son clouded his judgment; he knew his actions spent all of the trust he built with Harry.

All of this worrying wouldn't make any difference, so Hideki began to put his more desperate plan into motion, the one which sent Harry back into the dragon's lair again but he swore Harry would know exactly why it was necessary. Making out a list of the pros and cons, he knew it would be in his son and Harry's best interests. Convincing them was another matter entirely. He sighed heavily, his patient was going to be furious.

* * *

Garrick Ollivander had enough of Dark Wizards to last lifetimes. The substantial wards on his shop prevented much of the damage from the explosions, but this coupled with torture at the hands of Voldemort was too much. He would retire or leave his shop to his apprentice. He went back to packing his wands while providing statements to the DMLE. As the Auror contingent moved further up the Alley to take statements from patrons of the Leaky Cauldron, Garrick placed the last of his phoenix feather wands into storage. An uneasy feeling blanketed the old Ravenclaw and he surreptitiously palmed his wand in his cloak pocket.

He spun quickly, wand at the ready but saw nothing. _Old nerves, I guess._ Just in case, he weaved a few revealing spells. _Nothing_. He breathed heavily, after today one could never be too sure. He levitated the box of wands towards the back of the store, when he saw it. There was a faint shimmer of magic swiftly closing the distance between them and then a cold iron grip around his wrist pinning his wand to his side. Weathered and tanned fingers pulled back the hood and Garrick was shaken to see the malice reflecting off of Harry Potter's green eyes.

"Hello Garrick, you have something I need." Harry's voice was cold and dangerous.

"Harry … you are here, in Britain? What … what do you need from me?" His voice was cracking with concern, Garrick remembered those eyes; they were the same eyes as Lucius in the basement of Malfoy Manor.

"You said I was destined for great things, and I was. But now I need a new wand, it seems the last one wasn't enough." He held up his right hand and closed the distance between he and the wandmaker. "I need a new wand, one that the Ministry hasn't catalogued." Ollivander's eyes grew wide in fear. "Yes, Garrick, I know about your deal with the Ministry. I also know what your family did to mine".

Ollivander was confused at the venom in Harry's voice. He knew his family's recent history and the Potters were slight allies. His wonderings were cut short as Harry's anger overwhelmed him. "Think back further, Garrick. To an older time, an arcane time, the Peverells' time." Harry seethed at the older man.

Garrick blanched as his mind traveled back to those arcane times and horror seeped slowly into his face. _Peverell. The Elder Wand. _"You cannot mean _that_ wand, I told you all I know of it, I cannot help any more than that."

"You can, and you will. I am from the Peverell line, the very last of that line. The same line your family helped extinguish along with the other Sacred Twenty-Eight." Harry knew that he couldn't hold Garrick totally responsible for the actions of his family over a millennia ago, but as a Pureblood Lord, it was within his right. Harry hoped his anger, real and imaginary, would frighten Garrick enough to help. "Don't forget I saved your life Ollivander. As for the Elder Wand, I destroyed it."

Garrick looked crestfallen as only a wand crafter could at the loss. His reverie was interrupted but Harry's ominous voice.

"You owe me a debt Garrick, and I intend to start collecting. I am leaving here with a new wand of _my_ choosing and will return after you finished this tome." Harry placed the Black's tome of wandcrafting on the register counter. "Do not make me wait too long."

Garrick looked hesitantly at the tome and voiced his fears, "What is it, Lord Potter?"

"Research, Ollivander." He kept an eye on Garrick as he wandered over to the stacks of wands. Harry drew in a bit of the Fade and sifted through the boxes until he found a suitable replacement wand. He held up the wand for the wandmaker's inspection.

"Holly and phoenix feather. It seems you have an affinity for those elements."

"Only for now. Don't forget the book, Garrick. I may have this, but I will need a new wand, fit for an Arcane mage." Harry pocketed the similar wand and with a stern look reminded him, "The Ministry cannot know of any of this." He placed a small bag of two hundred Galleons on the countertop. As Harry left the shop, he answered the unasked question lingering in the air. _Why?_

"You are the proclaimed greatest wand maker, we will put that to the test."

* * *

Harry's relief in dealing with the wandmaker gave way to the need to see his friends, even if they were in the hospital. He hated hospitals, having found himself in one too often at Hogwarts, and not enough times when growing up with the Dursleys. In addition, Saint Mungo's would be crawling with Ministry employees and Aurors, any one of those could be tied to Matheson and his edict that he be captured or killed on sight.

He was a figurehead, a white knight that rallied people to his cause, the consummate war hero. He was also only a teenager, had a tenuous at best grasp of politics, and an unknown agenda. Men are flawed, but his legend was pristine, and that was what the Ministry and Matheson wanted. Harry had reservations of lumping Minister Shacklebolt in with them and was in no place now to demand those answers, but he would have them eventually.

Even with all the risks, he had to make sure everyone was alive, and had to make sure Hermione and Ginny knew _he_ was alive. They shouldn't suffer his supposed death twice in only a few months. Shrouded under his cloak, he shifted into the hospital to the one area that knew was always available for apparition or travelling through the Void. He paid the specialists there considerably to secure it. He smiled as he got his bearings, there were his doctors, and they were literally speaking to their only patients.

An astonished smile split Harry's face wide open as he watched the doctors coaxing a small conversation out of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't matter. His heart swelled with pride, these doctors were incredibly expensive; over the long term it would be the most expensive gift given to his friends, but _this_, this miracle would have been worth all his Galleons. He withdrew his hood after a few privacy charms and offered a grateful smile and nod to the specialists as he turned to replace his hood, his heart froze.

"James, is that you?" Alice shuffled forward and peered deep into his eyes. She shook her head, muttering quietly about his eyes being the wrong color. For once in his life, he quietly supplied her the common refrain, "My eyes, they're like my mother's, like Lily's."

Her eyes brightened in acknowledgment as her trembling hand cupped his face. "Harry?" He could only nod numbly. He knew that filling in all of the holes would be overwhelming; she didn't know about his parents' deaths, his or her son's role in the war. He couldn't help the tears that fell from his face, he knew that he would have given everything to have his parents back. "I will return soon, Alice, Frank, and I will be sure to tell Neville to come see you."

It hurt deeply to see his fellow Gryffindor regain some of his parents, the jealousy was not spiteful but it was there. Not angry, just an open longing. He refused to brood like he always did. Especially over such a miraculous event and quickly a smile emerged on his face. _It was a good omen._

There was redemption, the miraculous, magic made it all possible. Lost in his own musings, Harry arrived at the fourth floor where the victims of the Diagon Alley attack were being treated. Seeing the Aurors, reporters, Ministry officials, and victims, Harry knew that even with his cloak, there was no way to see his friends, or tell Neville to revel in his parents' lucidity. It galled him to see Rita Skeeter needling away at the Aurors, no doubt looking for a juicy angle about the attack. His anger was attracting unwanted attention due to the crackling waves rolling off of him, cloak or not. _I'll be back later when things have calmed down. _He knew he had one more promise to keep at this hospital, one that he swore to himself when in California.

He descended the empty stairwell to the main floor, and snuck quickly through the near vacant floor, stopping only once, at the door of the quarantine room. Knocking quietly as he opened the door, he peered in and saw the blond haired Gryffindor sitting petrified at the invisible intruder slipping into her room. The scarring on her neck and the gaunt look about her contrasted from her time at Hogwarts. Gone was her beauty and wonderful carefree smile, banished by the horrors of the last year and a half.

Harry drew the cloak off very slowly and looked deliberately into the sunken, haunted eyes of Lavender Brown. _It was time to retrieve one of his Lions._


End file.
